'«* 

MEN    AND    MANNERS 


IN    AMERICA. 


AUTHOR  OF  CYRIL  THORNTON,  ETC. 

. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

CAREY,  LEA   &  BLANCHAKD. 
1833. 


6RI06S  &  DICKIJfSOJT,  PBIHTER». 


TO 


WILLIAM  WOLRYCHE  WHITMORE, 

ESQUIRE,  M.P. 

DEAR  WHITMORE, 

I  inscribe  these  volumes  to  you.  As  a 
politician,  your  course  has  ever  heen  straight- 
forward and  consistent;  and  I  know  no  one  who 
brings  to  the  discharge  of  his  public  duties  a  mind 
less  biassed  by  prejudice,  or  more  philosophically 
solicitous  for  the  attainment  of  truth.  Neither 
mingling  in  the  asperities  of  party  conflict,  nor 
descending  to  those  arts  by  which  temporary  po- 
pularity is  often  purchased  at  the  expense  of  per- 
manent contempt,  you  have  been  wisely  content 
to  rest  your  claims  to  the  gratitude  of  your  coun- 
try, on  a  zealous,  enlightened,  and  unobtrusive 
devotion  to  her  best  interests. 

Had  I  been  conscious,  in  what  I  have  written 
of  the  United  States,  of  being  influenced  by  any 
motive  incompatible  with  perfect  fairness  of  pur- 
pose, you  are  perhaps  the  last  person  to  whose 
judgment  I  should  venture  an  appeal.  By  no  one 
will  the  arguments  I  have  advanced  be  more  ri- 
gidly examined,  and  the  grist  of  truth  more  care- 
fully winnowed  from  the  chaff  of  sophistry  and 
declamation.  For  this  reason,  and  in  testimony 
of  sincere  esteem,  I  now  publicly  connect  your 
name  with  the  present  work.  You  will,  at  least, 
find  in  it  the  conclusions  of  an  independent  ob- 
server; formed  after  much  deliberation,  and  of- 
fered to  the  world  with  that  confidence  in  their 


fc-017340 


IV  DEDICATION. 

justice  which  becomes  a  writer,  who,  through  the 
medium  of  the  press,  pretends  to  influence  the 
opinions  of  others. 

It  was  not  till  more  than  a  year  after  my  return, 
that  I  finally  determined  on  publishing  the  result 
of  my  observations  in  the  United  States.  Of  books 
of  travels  in  America,  there  seemed  no  deficien- 
cy; and  I  was  naturally  unwilling  to  incur,  by  the 
public  expression  of  my  opinions,  the  certainty  of 
giving  offence  to  a  people,  of  whose  hospitality  I 
shall  always  entertain  a  grateful  recollection.  I 
should,  therefore,  gladly  have  remained  silent, 
and  devoted  those  hours  which  occasionally  hang 
heavy  on  the  hands  of  an  idle  gentleman,  to  the 
productions  of  lighter  literature,  which,  if  not 
more  attractive  to  the  reader,  would  certainly 
have  been  more  agreeable  to  the  taste  and  habits 
of  the  writer. 

But  when  I  found  the  institutions  and  experi- 
ence of  the  United  States  deliberately  quoted  in 
the  reformed  Parliament,  as  affording  safe  prece- 
dent for  British  legislation,  and  learned  that  the 
drivellers  who  uttered  such  nonsense,  instead  of 
encountering  merited  derision,  were  listened  to 
with  patience  and  approbation,  by  men  as  igno- 
rant as  themselves,  I  certainly  did  feel  that  ano- 
ther work  on  America  was  yet  wanted,  and  at 
once  determined  to  undertake  a  task  which  infe- 
rior considerations  would  probably  have  induced 
me  to  decline. 

How  far,  in  writing  of  the  institutions  of  a  fo- 
reign country,  I  may  have  been  influenced  by  the 
prejudices  natural  to  an  Englishman,  I  presume 
not  to  determine.  To  the  impartiality  of  a  cos- 
mopolite I  make  no  pretension.  No  man  can 
wholly  cast  off  the  trammels  of  habit  and  educa- 


DEDICATION.  V 

tion,  nor  escape  from  the  bias  of  that  multitude 
of  minute  and  latent  predilections,  which  insen- 
sibly affect  the  judgment  of  the  wisest. 

But,  apart  from  such  necessary  and  acknow- 
ledged influences,  I  am  aware  of  no  prejudice 
which  could  lead  me  to  form  a  perverted  estimate 
of  the  condition,  moral  or  social,  of  the  Ameri- 
cans. I  visited  their  country  with  no  antipathies 
to  be  overcome;  and  I  doubt  not  you  can  bear 
testimony  that  my  political  sentiments  were  not 
such,  as  to  make  it  probable  that  I  would  regard 
with  an  unfavourable  eye  the  popular  character 
of  their  government.  In  the  United  States  I  was 
received  with  kindness,  and  enjoyed  an  inter- 
course at  once  gratifying  and  instructive,  with 
many  individuals  for  whom  I  can  never  cease  to 
cherish  the  warmest  sentiments  of  esteem.  I  nei- 
ther left  England  a  visionary  and  discontented 
enthusiast,  nor  did  I  return  to  it  a  man  of  blight- 
ed prospects  and  disappointed  hopes.  In  the 
business  or  ambitions  of  the  world  I  had  long 
ceased  to  have  any  share. ,  I  was  bound  to  no 
party,  and  pledged  to  no  opinions.  I  had  visited 
many  countries,  and  may  therefore  be  permitted 
to  claim  the  possession  of  such  advantages  as  fo- 
reign travel  can  bestow. 

Under  these  circumstances,  I  leave  it  to  the 
ingenuity  of  others  to  discover  by  what  probable 
— what  possible  temptation,  I  could  be  induced 
to  write  in  a  spirit  of  unjust  depreciation  of  the 
manners,  morals,  or  institutions  of  a  people  so 
intimately  connected  with  England,  by  the  ties  of 
interest,  and  the  affinities  of  common  ancestry. 

It  has  been  said,  by  some  one,  that  the  narra- 
tive of  a  traveller  is  necessarily  a  book  of  inaccu- 
racies. I  admit  the  truth  of  the  apophthegm,  and 


VI  DEDICATION. 

only  claim  the  most  favourable  construction  for 
his  mistakes.  The  range  of  a  traveller's  obser- 
vations must  generally  be  limited  to  those  peculi- 
arities which  float,  as  it  were,  on  the  surface  of 
society.  Of  the  " sunken  treasuries"  beneath, 
he  cannot  speak.  His  sources  of  information  are 
always  fallible,  and,  at  best,  he  can  appeal  only 
to  the  results  of  an  imperfect  experience.  A  great 
deal  which  necessarily  enters  into  his  narrative, 
must  be  derived  from  the  testimony  of  others. 
In  the  common  intercourse  of  society,  men  do  not 
select  their  words  with  that  scrupulous  precision 
which  they  use  in  a  witness-box.  Details  are  loose- 
ly given,  and  inaccurately  remembered.  Events 
are  coloured  or  distorted  by  the  partialities  of  the 
narrator;  minute  circumstances  are  omitted  or 
brought  into  undue  prominence,  and  the  vast  and 
varied  machinery  by  which  fact  is  manufactured 
into  fallacy  is  continually  at  work. 

From  the  errors  which,  I  fear,  must  still  con- 
stitute the  badge  of  all  our  tribe,  I  pretend  to  no 
exemption.  But,  whatever  be  the  amount  of  its 
imperfections,  the  present  work  is  offered  to  the 
world  without  excuse  of  any  sort;  for  I  confess  my 
observations  have  led  to  the  conclusion,  that  a 
book  requiring  apology  is  rarely  worth  it. 
Ever,  dear  WHITMORE, 

Very  truly  yours, 

T.  H. 

RVDAL,  8th  July,  1833. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

CHAP.  I. — Voyage — New  York, 9 

II.— New  York, 20 

III.— New  York— Hudson  River,          ....  38 

IV.— New  York,      ..-..-.  52 

V.— New  York, 61 

VL — Voyage— Providence — Boston,          ...  77 

VII.— Boston, 107 

VIII.— New  England, 129 

IX.— New  York, 148 

X.— Philadelphia,    .        .        .        .'      .        .        .  178 

XI.— Philadelphia, 200 

XII. — Journey — Baltimore — Washington,          .        .  209 

XIII. — American  Constitution, 232 

XIV.— Washington, 243 

XV.— Washington, 272 

XVI. — Journey  to  New  Orleans,         ....  287 

XVII.— New  Orleans, 309 

XVIIL— Journey  to  Charleston, 326 

XIX.— Journey  to  Niagara— The  Falls,           ...  351 

XX. — Journey  to  Quebec, 375 

XXI.— Journey  to  New  York, 391 


MEN  AND  MANNERS 


IN  AMERICA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

VOYAGE NEW   YORK. 

ON  the  morning  of  the  16th  of  October,  I  embarked 
at  Liverpool,  on  board  of  the  American  packet  ship, 
New  York,  Captain  Bennet,  bound  for  the  port  of  the 
same  name.  There  were  twenty-six  passengers  on 
board,  and  though  the  accommodations  were  excellent, 
the  cabin,  as  might  be  expected,  was  somewhat  disa- 
greeably crowded.  Our  party  consisted  of  about  fifteen 
or  sixteen  Americans,  some  half-dozen  countrymen  of 
my  own,  two  or  three  English,  a  Swiss,  and  a  French- 
man. 

Though  the  elements  of  this  assemblage  were  hete- 
rogeneous enough,  I  have  great  pleasure  in  remember- 
ing that  the  most  perfect  harmony  prevailed  on  board. 
To  myself,  the  whole  of  my  fellow- passengers  were 
most  obliging;  and  for  some  I  contracted  a  regard  which 
led  me  to  regret  that  the  period  of  our  arrival  in  port, 
was  likely  to  bring  with  it  a  lasting  cessation  of  our 
intercourse. 

The  miseries  of  a  landsman  on  board  of  a  ship,  have 
afforded  frequent  matter  for  a  pen  and  pencil.  At  best, 
a  sea  voyage  is  a  confinement  at  once  irksome  and 
odious,  in  which  the  unfortunate  prisoner  is  compelled 
for  weeks,  or  months,  to  breathe  the  tainted  atmosphere 
of  a  close  and  crowded  cabin,  and  to  sleep  at  night  in 
a  sort  of  box,  about  the  size  of  a  coffin,  for  "  the  stout 
gentleman."  At  worst,  it  involves  a  complication  of  the 
most  nauseous  evils  that  can  afflict  humanity, — an  utter 
prostration  of  power,  both  bodily  and  mental,— a  revul- 

2 


10  ACCOMMODATIONS  ONBOARD. 

sion  of  the  whole  corporeal  machinery,  accompanied 
by  a  host  of  detestable  diagnostics,  which  at  once  con- 
vert a  well-dressed  and  well-favoured  gentleman,  into 
an  object  of  contempt  to  himself,  and  disgust  to  those 
around  him. 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  joys  that  await  a  landsmanr 
whom  evil  stars  have  led  to  "go  down  to  the  sea  in 
ships,  and  occupy  his  business  in  the  great  waters." 
With  regard  to  sailors,  the  case  is  different,  but  not 
much.  Being  seasoned  vessels,  they  are,  no  doubt, 
exempt  from  some  of  those  evils,  and  completely  har- 
dened to  others,  which  are  most  revolting  to  a  lands- 
man. But  their  Pandora's  box  can  afford  to  lose  a 
few  miseries,  and  still  retain  a  sufficient  stock  of  all 
sizes,  for  any  reasonable  supply.  It  may  be  doubted, 
too,  whether  the  most  ardent  sailor  was  ever  so  hallu- 
cinated by  professional  enthusiasm,  as  to  pitch  his  Pa- 
radise— wherever  he  might  place  his  Purgatory — afloat. 

On  board  of  the  New  York,  however,  I  must  say, 
that  our  sufferings  were  exclusively  those  arising  from 
the  elements  of  air  and  water.  Her  accommodations 
were  admirable.  Nothing  had  been  neglected  which 
could  possibly  contribute  to  the  comfort  of  the  passen- 
gers. In  another  respect,  too,  we  were  fortunate.  Our 
commander  had  nothing  about  him,  of  "the  rude  and 
boisterous  captain  of  the  sea."  In  truth,  Captain  Ben- 
net  was  not  only  an  adept  in  all  professional  accomplish- 
ment, but,  in  other  respects,  a  person  of  extensive  infor- 
mation; and  I  confess,  it  was  even  with  some  degree  of 
pride  that  I  learned  he  had  received  his  nautical  edu- 
cation in  the  British  navy.  Partaking  of  the  strong 
sense  we  all  entertained  of  his  unvarying  solicitude  for 
the  comfort  of  his  passengers,  I  am  happy  also  to  pro- 
fess myself  indebted  to  him,  for  much  valuable  infor- 
mation relative  to  the  country  I  was  about  to  visit. 

Among  the  passengers  were  some  whose  eccentrici- 
ties contributed  materially  to  enliven  the  monotony  of 
the  voyage.  The  most  prominent  of  these  was  a  retired 
hair-dresser  from  Birmingham,  innocent  of  all  know- 
ledge unconnected  with  the  wig-block,  who,  having 
recently  married  a  young  wife,  was  proceeding,  accom- 
panied by  his  fair  rib,  with  the  romantic  intention  of 


MASTER  BURKE.  11 

establishing  themselves  in  "  some  pretty  box,"  in  the 
back-woods  of  America.  As  for  the  lady,  she  was 
good-looking;  but,  being  somewhat  gratuitously  solici- 
tous to  barb  the  arrows  of  her  charms,  her  chief  occu- 
pation, during  the  voyage,  consisted  in  adorning  her 
countenance  with  such  variety  of  wigs  of  different  co- 
lours, as  unquestionably  did  excite  the  marvel,  if  not 
the  admiration  of  the  passengers.  The  billing  and 
cooing  of  this  interesting  couple,  however,  though 
sanctioned  by  the  laws  of  Hymen,  became  at  length  so 
public  and  obtrusive,  as,  in  the  opinion  of  the  other  la- 
dies, to  demand  repression;  and  a  request  was  conse- 
quently made,  that  they  would  be  so  obliging  for  the 
future,  as  to  reserve  their  mutual  demonstrations  of  at- 
tachment for  the  privacy  of  their  own  cabin. 

Among  the  passengers,  too,  was  Master  Burke,  bet- 
ter known  by  the  title  of  the  Irish  Roscius,  who  was 
about  to  cross  the  Atlantic  with  his  father  and  a  French 
music  master,  to  display  his  talents  on  a  new  field. 
Though  not  much  given  to  admire  those  youthful  pro- 
digies, who  for  a  season  or  two  are  puffed  into  notice, 
and  then  quietly  lapse  into  very  ordinary  men,  I  think 
there  can  be  no  question  that  young  Burke  is  a  very 
wonderful  boy.  Barely  eleven  years  old,  he  was  al- 
ready an  accomplished  and  scientific  musician,  played 
the  violin  with  first-rate  taste  and  execution;  and  in  his 
impersonations  of  character,  displayed  a  versatility  of 
power,  and  a. perception  of  the  deeper  springs  of  human 
action,  almost  incredible  in  one  so  young.  But,  inde- 
pendently of  all  this,  he  became,  by  his  amiable  and 
obliging  disposition,  a  universal  favourite  on  board; 
and  when  the  conclusion  of  our  voyage  brought  with  it 
a  general  separation,  1  am  certain  the  boy  carried  with 
him  the  best  wishes  of  us  all,  that  he  might  escape  in- 
jury or  contamination  in  that  perilous  profession,  to 
which  his  talents  had  been  thus  early  devoted. 

We  sailed  from  Liverpool  about  one  o'clock,  and  in 
little  more  than  hour,  were  clear  of  the  Mersey.  On 
the  morning  following  we  were  opposite  the  Tuskar 
rocks,  and  a  run  of  two  days  brought  us  fairly  out  into 
the  Atlantic.  Then  bidding  farewell  to  the  bold  head- 
lands of  the  Irish  coast,  with  a  flowing  sheet  we  plunged 


12  ARRIVAL  OFF  SANDY  HOOK. 

forward  into  the  vast  wilderness  of  waters,  which  lay 
foaming  before  us,  and  around. 

For  the  first  week,  all  the  chances  were  in  our  fa- 
vour. The  wind,  though  generally  light,  was  fair,  and 
the  New  York — celebrated  as  a  fast  sailer — with  all 
canvass  set,  ran  down  the  distance  gallantly.  But,  on 
the  seventh  day,  our  good  fortune  was  at  an  end.  The 
wind  came  on  boisterous  and  adverse;  and  our  pro- 
gress,  for  the  next  fortnight,  was  comparatively  small. 
Many  of  the  party  became  affected  with  sea-sickness, 
and  the  hopes,  to  which  our  early  good  fortune  had 
given  rise,  of  rapid  passage,  were — as  other  dearer 
hopes  have  been  by  us  all, — slowly,  but  unwillingly, 
relinquished. 

We  were  yet  some  five  hundred  miles  to  the  east- 
ward of  the  banks  of  Newfoundland,  when,  on  the  23d 
day,  our  spirits  were  again  gladdened  by  a  fair  wind. 
Then  it  was  that  the  New  York  gave  unquestionable 
proof  that,  her  high  character  was  not  unmerited.  In 
the  six  following  days  we  ran  down  fifteen  hundred 
miles,  and  the  evening  of  the  twenty-eight  day,  found 
us  off  Sandy  Hook,  which  forms  the  entrance  to  the 
Bay  of  New  York. 

Our  misfortunes,  however,  were  not  yet  at  an  end. 
When  within  a  few  hours'  sail  of  port,  our.  progress 
was  arrested  for  four  days,  by  a  dense  fog.  Four  more 
disagreeable  days,  I  never  passed.  Sun,  moon,  stars, 
earth,  and  ocean,  lay  hid  in  impenetrable  vapour,  and 
it  was  only  by  the  constant  use  of  the  lead,  that  the  ship 
could  move  in  safety.  The  air  we  breathed  seemed 
changed  into  a  heavier  element:  we  felt  like  men  sud- 
denly smitten  with  blindness;  and  it  almost  seemed  as 
if  the  time  of  chaos  had  come  again,  when  darkness  lay 
brooding  on  the  face  of  the  deep.  The  effect  of  this 
weather  on  the  spirits  of  us  all  was  very  remarkable. 
Even  the  most  jovial  of  the  party  became  gloomy  and 
morose.  Conversation  languished,  and  the  mutual  be- 
nevolence with  which  we  had  hitherto  regarded  each 
other,  had  evidently  sustained  a  diminution. 

At  length,  when  our  patience,  hourly  sinking,  had 
nearly  reached  zero,  a  favourable  change  took  place. 
About  noon  on  the  17th  of  November,  the  mist^sud- 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  SCENERY.  ]  3 

denly  rolled  upward  like  a  curtain,  and  with  joyful 
eyes  we  beheld  the  coast  of  New  Jersey  outstretched 
before  us.  Towards  evening,  we  received  a  pilot,  and 
were  visited  by  several  boats  employed  by  the  propri- 
etors of  the  New  York  newspapers,  to  procure  the  ear- 
liest intelligence  from  vessels  in  the  offing.  The  avidity 
for  news  of  all  kinds,  displayed  both  by  these  visiters 
and  the  American  passengers,  was  rather  amusing. 

Numerous  questions  were  interchanged,  relative  to 
politics  and  dry  goods,  shipping  and  shippers,  freights 
and  failures,  corn,  cotton,  constitutions,  and  commis- 
sions. Though  in  this  sort  of  traffic,  as  in  all  others, 
there  was  value  given  on  both  sides,  yet  it  struck  me, 
that  a  sincere  desire  to  oblige  was  generally  apparent. 
Every  one  seemed  happy  to  enter  on  the  most  prolix 
details  for  the  benefit  of  his  neighbour;  and  the  fre- 
quent repetition  of  the  same  question  appeared  by  no 
means  to  be  attended  with  the  usual  consequences  on 
the  patience  of  the  person  addressed.  I  certainly  could 
detect  nothing  of  that  dogged,  and  almost  sullen  bre- 
vity, with  which,  I  take  it,-the  communications  of  En- 
glishmen, in  similar  circumstances,  would  have  been 
marked.  No  one  seemed  to  grudge  the  trouble  neces- 
sary to  convey  a  complete  comprehension  of  facts  or 
opinions  to  the  mind  of  his  neighbour,  nor  to  circum- 
scribe his  communications  within  the  limits  necessary 
to  secure  the  gratification  of  his  own  curiosity. 

We  passed  Sandy  Hook  in  the  night,  and,  on  coming 
,on  deck  in  the  morning,  were  greeted  with  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  prospects  I  had  ever  beheld.  We  were 
then  passing  the  Narrows;  Long  Island  on  one  side, 
Staten  Island  on  the  other,  a  finely  undulating  coun- 
try, hills  covered  with  wood,  agreeably  interspersed 
with  villas  and  cottages,  and  New  York  on  its  island, 
with  its  vast  forest  of  shipping,  looming  in  the  distance. 

Such  are  some  of  the  more  prominent  features  of  the 
scene  by  which  our  eyes  were  first  gladdened,  on  en- 
tering the  American  waters.  A  more  glorious  morn- 
ing never  shone  from  the  heavens.  All  around  was 
bathed  in  a  flood  of  sunshine,  which  seemed  brighter 
when  contrasted  with  the  weather  under  which  we 
so  recently  suffered. 


14  LANDING  AT  NEW  YORK. 

I  am  not  aware,  that  there  is  any  thing  very  fine  in 
the  appearance  of  New  York,  when  seen  from  the  bay, 
but,  taken  in  conjunction  with  the  surrounding  scene- 
ry, it  certainly  forms  a  pleasing  feature  in  the  land- 
scape. The  city  stands  on  the  southern  extremity  of 
York  Island,  and  enlarging  in  latitude  as  it  recedes 
from  the  apex  of  a  triangle,  stretches  along  the  shores 
of  the  Hudson  and  East  Rivers,  far  as  the  eye  can 
reach.  On  the  right  are  the  heights  of  Brooklyn, 
which  form  part  of  Long  Island;  and  across  the  broad 
waters  of  the  Hudson,  the  view  is  terminated  on  the 
left  by  the  wooded  shore  of  New  Jersey. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  pictorial  defects  or  beau- 
ties of  New  York,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  conceive  a 
city,  better  situated  for  commerce.  At  no  season  of 
the  year,  can  there  be  any  obstruction  in  its  communi- 
cation with  the  ocean;  and  with  a  fine  and  navigable 
river,  stretching  for  nearly  two  hundred  miles  into  the 
interior  of  a  fertile  country,  it  possesses  natural  advan- 
tages of  no  common  order.  In  extent  of  trade  and  po- 
pulation, I  believe  New  York  already  exceeds  every 
other  city  of  the  Union;  and  unquestionably  it  is  yet 
very  far  from  having  gathered  all  its  greatness. 

The  scene,  as  we  approached  the  quay,  became  gra- 
dually more  animated.  Numerous  steam-vessels,  and 
boats  of  all  descriptions,  were  traversing  the  harbour;  and 
the  creaking  of  machinery,  and  the  loud  voices  which 
occasionally  reached  us  from  the  shore,  gave  evidence 
of  activity  and  bustle.  About  twelve  o'clock  the  ship 
reached  her  mooring,  and  in  half  an  hour  I  was  safely 
housed  in  Bunker's  Hotel,  where  I  had  been  strongly 
recommended  to  take  up  my  residence.  A  young  Ame- 
rican accompanied  me  to  the  house,  and  introduced  me 
to  the  landlord,  who,  after  some  miscellaneous  conver- 
sation, produced  a  book,  in  which  I  was  directed  to  en- 
rol my  name,  country,  and  vocation.  This  formality 
being  complied  with,  a  black  waiter  was  directed  to 
convey  such  of  my  baggage  as  I  had  been  permitted  to 
bring  ashore,  to  an  apartment,  and  I  found  myself  at 
liberty  to  ramble  forth,  and  gratify  my  curiosity  by  a 
view  of  the  town. 

Jn  visiting  a  foreign  city,  a  traveller — especially  an 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  NEW  YORK.  £5 

English  one — usually  expects  to  find,  in  the  aspect  of 
the  place  and  its  inhabitants,  some  tincture  of  the  bar- 
baric. There  is  something  of  this,  though  not  a  great 
deal,  at  New  York.  The  appearance  of  the  population, 
though  not  English,  is  undoubtedly  nearer  to  it  than 
that  of  any  city  on  the  continent  of  Europe;  and  but 
for  the  number  of  blacks  and  people  of  colour,  one  en- 
counters in  the  streets,  there  is  certainly  little  to  remind 
a  traveller  that  the  breadth  of  an  ocean  divides  him 
from  Great  Britain.  The  fashions  of  dress  generally 
adopted  by  the  wealthier  classes  are  those  of  Paris  and 
London;  and  the  tastes  and  habits  of  the  people,  so  far 
as  these  appear  on  the  surface,  bear  a  strong  resem- 
blance to  those  of  his  countrymen.  Minute  differences, 
however,  are  no  doubt  apparent  at  the  first  glance. 
The  aspect  and  bearing  of  the  citizens  of  New  York, 
are  certainly  very  distinguishable  from  any  thing  ever 
seen  in  Great  Britain.  They  are  generally  slender  in 
person,  somewhat  slouching  in  gait,  and  without  that 
openness  of  countenance  and  erectness  of  deportment  to 
which  an  English  eye  has  been  accustomed.  Their  ut- 
terance, too,  is  marked  by  a  peculiar  modulation,  par- 
taking of  a  snivel  and  a  drawl,  which,  I  confess,  to 
my  ear,  is  by  no  means  laudable  on  the  score  of  eu- 
phony. 

Observations  of  a  similar  character,  are  as  applicable 
to  the  city,  as  to  its  inhabitants.  The  frequent  inter- 
mixture of  houses  of  brick  and  framework,  was  certain- 
ly unlike  any  thing  I  had  ever  seen  in  Europe;  and  the 
New  Yorkers  have  inherited  from  their  Dutch  ancestors 
the  fashion  of  painting  their  houses  of  a  bright  colour, 
which  produces  an  agreeable  effect,  and  gives  to  the 
streets  an  air  of  gaiety  and  lightness  which  could  not 
otherwise  have  been  attained.  The  prominent  defect 
of  the  city,  is  a  want  of  consistency  and  compactness, 
in  the  structure  even  of  the  better  streets.  There  are 
some  excellent  houses  in  them  all,  but  these  frequently 
occur  in  alternation  with  mere  hovels,  and  collections 
of  rubbish,  which  detract  materially  from  the  general 
effect.  But  the  general  aspect  of  New  York  is  unques- 
tionably pleasing.  It  is  full,  even  to  overflow,  of  busi- 
ness and  bustle,  and  crowded  with  a  population  devoting 


16  THE  CUSTOM-ftOUSE. 

their  whole  energies,  to  the  arts  of  money-getting.  Such 
were  the  first  impressions  I  received  in  New  York. 

Having  gratified  my  curiosity  with  a  cursory  view  of 
the  chief  streets,  my  obliging  companion  conducted  me 
to  the  Custom-house,  in  order  to  procure  a  permit  for 
landing  my  baggage.  On  arriving  there,  I  was  rather 
surprised  to  find,  that  the  routine  observed,  in  such 
matters  in  this  republican  country,  is  in  fact  more  vexa- 
tious, than  in  England.  In  New  York,  you  are  first  re- 
quired to  swear  that  the  specification  given  of  the  con- 
tents of  your  boxes  is  true;  and  then,  as  if  no  reliance 
were  due  to  your  oath,  the  officers  proceed  to  a  com- 
plete search.  To  the  search,  however  troublesome,  un- 
questionably no  objection  can  be  made;  but  it  does  ap- 
pear to  be  little  better  than  an  insulting  mockery,  to 
require  an  oath  to  which  all  credit  is  so  evidently  de- 
nied. The  proverb  says,  that  "  at  lovers'  vows  Jove 
laughs;"  and  if,  in  America,  the  deity  is  supposed  to  ex- 
tend his  merriment  to  Custom-house  oaths,  it  surely 
would  be  better  to  abolish  a  practice,  which,  to  say  no- 
thing of  the  demoralizing  influence  it  cannot  fail  to  ex- 
ert, is  found  to  have  no  efficacy  in  the  prevention  of 
fraud.  Certainly  in  no  country  of  Europe  is  it  usual  to 
require  an  oath,  in  cases  where  it  is  not  received  as 
sufficient  evidence  of  the  fact  deposed  to;  and  why  the 
practice  should  be  different,  under  a  government  so 
popular  as  that  of  <the  United  States,  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  determine.  < 

Custom-house  regulations,  however,  are  matters  on 
which  most  travellers  are  given  to  be  censorious.  In 
truth,  I  know  nothing  so  trying  to  the  equanimity  of 
the  mildest  temper,  as  the  unpleasant  ceremony  of 
having  one's  baggage  rummaged  over  by  the  rude  fists  of 
a  revenue-officer.  It  is  in  vain  reason  tells  us,  that  this 
impertinent  poking  into  our  portmanteaus  is  just  and 
proper;  that  the  privilege  is  reciprocal  between  nations, 
each  of  which  necessarily  enjoys  the  right,  of  excluding 
altogether  articles  of  foreign  manufacture,  or  of  attach- 
ing such  conditions  to  their  importation,  as  it  may  see 
fit.  All  this  rs  very  true,  but  the  sense  of  personal  in- 
dignity cannot  be  got  over.  There  is  nothing  of  na- 
tional solemnity  at  all  apparent  in  the  operation.  The 


SINGULARITY  OF  SIGNS.  17 

investigator  of  our  property  is  undistinguished  by  any 
outward  symbol  of  executive  authority.  It  requires  too 
great  an  effort  of  imagination,  to  regard  a  dirty  Custom- 
house searcher,  as  a  visible  impersonation  of  the  ma* 
jesty  of  the  law;  and  in  spite  of  ten  thousand  unanswer- 
able reasons  to  the  contrary,  we  cannot  help  considering 
his  rigid  examination  of  our  cloak-bag  and  shaving- 
case,  rather  as  an  act  of  individual  audacity,  than  the 
necessary  and  perfunctory  discharge  of  professional 
duty.  In  short,  the  searcher  and  searches  stand  to  each 
other  in  the  relation  of  plus  and  minus,  and  the  latter 
has  nothing  for  it,  but  to  put  his  pride  in  his  pocket,  and 
keep  down  his  choler  as  best  he  can,  with  the  complete 
knowledge  that  being  pro  tern,  in  the  hands  of  the  Phi- 
listines, the  smallest  display  of  either  could  only  tend  to 
make  things  worse,  [t  is  always  my  rule,  therefore,  when 
possible,  to  avoid  being  present  at  the  scene  at  all;  and 
having,  on  the  present  occasion,  given  directions  to  my 
servant,  to  await  the  business  of  inspection,  and  after- 
wards to  convey  the  baggage  to  the  hotel,  I  again  com- 
mitted myself  to  the  guidance  of  some  of  my  American 
friends,  and  commenced  another  ramble  through  the 
city. 

As  we  passed,  many  of  the  signs  exhibited  by  the  dif- 
ferent shops  -struck  me  as  singular.  Of  these,  "  DRY 
GOOD  STORE,"  words  of  which  I  confess  I  did  not  under- 
stand the  precise  import,  was  certainly  the  most  preva- 
lent. My  companions  informed  me  that  the  term  dry 
goods  is  not,  as  might  be  supposed,  generally  applicable 
to  merchandise  devoid  of  moisture,  but  solely  to  articles 
composed  of  linen,  silk,  or  woollen.  "  COFFIN  WARE- 
HOUSE," however,  was  sufficiently  explanatory  of  the 
nature  of  the  commerce  carried  on  within ;  but  had  it 
been  otherwise,  the  sight  of  some  scores  of  these  dismal 
commodities,  arranged  in  sizes,  and  ready  for  immedi- 
ate use,  would  have  been  comment  enough.  "  FLOUR 
AND  FEED  STORE,"  and  "  OYSTER  REFECTORY,;'  were 
more  grateful  to  the  eye  and  the  imagination.  "  HOL- 
LOW WARE,  SPIDERS,  and  FIRE  DOGS,"  seemed  to  indi- 
cate some  novel  and  anomalous  traffic,  and  carried  with 
it  a  certain  dim  and  mystical  sublimity,  of  which  I  shall 
not  venture  to  divest  if,  by  any  attempt  at  explanation. 

3 


18  NIBLO'S  TAVERN. 

1  was  amused,  too,  with  some  of  the  placards  which 
appeared  on  the  walls.  Many  of  these  were  political, 
and  one  in  particular  was  so  unintelligible,  as  to  impose 
the  task  of  a  somewhat  prolix  commentary  on  my 
friends.  It  ran  thus,  in  sesquipedalian  characters, 

JACKSON  FOR  EVER. 
GO  THE  WHOLE  HOG! 

When  the  sphere  of  my  intelligence  became  enlarged 
with  regard  to  this  affiche,  I  learned,  that  "  going  the 
whole  hog"  is  the  American  popular  phrase  for  Radical 
Reform,  and  is  used  by  the  Democratic  party  to  distin- 
guish them  from  the  Federalists,  who  are  supposed  to 
prefer  less  sweeping  measures,  and  consequently  to  go 
only  a  part  of  the  interesting  quadruped  in  question.  The 
Go-the-whole-hoggers,  therefore,  are  politicians  deter- 
mined to  follow  out  Democratic  principles  to  their  ut- 
most extent,  and  with  this  party,  General  Jackson  is  at 
present  an  especial  favourite.  The  expression,  I  am 
told,  is  of  Virginian  origin.  In  that  State,  when  a 
butcher  kills  a  pig,  it  is  usual  to  demand  of  each  cus- 
tomer, whether  he  will  "  go  the  whole  hog;"  as,  by 
such  extensive  traffic,  a  purchaser  may  supply  his  table 
at  a  lower  price,  than  is  demanded  of  him,  whose  ima- 
gination revels  among  prime  pieces,  to  the  exclusion  of 
baser  matter. 

Before  quitting  the  ship,  it  had  been  arranged  among 
a  considerable  number  of  the  passengers,  that  we  should 
dine  together  on  the  day  of  our  arrival,  as  a  proof  of 
parting  in  kindness  and  good-fellowship.  Niblo's  tavern, 
the  most  celebrated  eating-house  in  New  York,  was  the 
scene  chosen  for  this  amicable  celebration.  Though  a 
little  tired  with  my  walks  of  the  morning,  which  the 
long  previous  confinement  on  board  of  ship  had  ren- 
dered more  than  usually  fatiguing,  I  determined  to  ex- 
plore my  way  on  foot,  and  having  procured  the  neces- 
sary directions  at  the  hotel,  again  set  forth.  On  my 
way,  an  incident  occurred,  which  I  merely  mention  to 
show  how  easily  travellers  like  myself,  on  their  first  ar- 
rival in  a  country,  may  be  led  into  a  misconception  of 
the  character  of  the  people.  Having  proceeded  some 


DINNER  AT  NIBLO'S.  19 

distance,  I  found  it  necessary  to  inquire  my  way,  and 
accordingly  entered  a  small  grocer's  shop.  "  Pray,  sir," 
I  said,  "  can  you  point  out  to  me  the  way  to  Niblo's 
tavern?"  The  person  thus  addressed  was  rather  a 
grufflooking  man,  in  a  sqratch-wig,  and  for  at  least 
half  a  minute  kept  eyeing  me  from  top  to  toe  without 
uttering  a  syllable.  "  Yes,  sir,  1  can,"  he  at  length  re- 
plied, with  a  stare  as  broad  as  if  he  had  taken  me  for 
the  great  Katterfelto.  Considering  this  sort  of  treat- 
ment, as  the  mere  ebullition  of  republican  insolence,  I 
was  in  the  act  of  turning  on  my  heel  and  quitting  the 
shop,  when  the  man  added,  "  and  I  shall  have  great 
pleasure  in  showing  it  you."  He  then  crossed  the 
counter,  and  accompanying  me  to  the  middle  of  the 
street,  pointed  out  the  land-marks  by  which  I  was  to 
steer,  and  gave  the  most  minute  directions  for  my  gui- 
dance. I  presume  that  his  curiosity  in  the  first  instance 
was  excited  by  something  foreign  in  my  appearance; 
and  that,  having  once  satisfied  himself  that  I  was  a 
stranger,  he  became  on  that  account  more  than  ordi- 
narily anxious  to  oblige.  This  incident  afforded  me  the 
first  practical  insight  into  the  manners  of  the  people, 
and  was  useful  both  as  a  precedent  for  future  guidance, 
and  as  explaining  the  source  of  many  of  the  errors  of  for- 
mer travellers.  Had  my  impulse  to  quit  the  shop  been 
executed  with  greater  rapidity,  I  should  certainly  have 
considered  this  man  as  a  brutal  barbarian,  and  perhaps 
have  drawn  an  unfair  inference  with  regard  to  the 
manners  and  character,  of  the  lower  orders  of  society 
in  the  United  States. 

The  dinner  at  Niblo's, — which  may  be  considered  the 
London  Tavern  of  New  York, — was  certainly  more  ex- 
cellent in  point  of  material,  than  of  cookery  or  arrange- 
ment. It  consisted  of  oyster  soup,  shad,  venison,*  par- 
tridges, grouse,  wild-ducks  of  different  varieties,  and 
several  other  dishes  less  notable.  There  was  no  at- 
tempt to  serve  this  chaotic  entertainment  in  courses,  a 

*  In  regard  to  game,  I  adopt  the  nomenclature  in  common  use  in 
the  United  States.  It  may  be  as  well  to  state,  however,  that  neither 
the  partridges  nor  the  grouse  bear  any  very  close  resemblance  to  the 
birds  of  the  same  name  in  Europe.  Their  flesh  is  dry,  and  compa- 
ratively without  flavour. 


20  BREAKFAST  AT  THE  HOTEL. 

fashion,  indeed,  but  little  prevalent  in  the  United  States. 
Soup,  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl,  simultaneously  garnished  the 
table  ;  and  the  consequence  was,  that  the  greater  part 
of  the  dishes  were  cold,  before  the  guests  were  prepared 
to  attack  them.  The  venison  was  good,  though  cer- 
tainly very  inferior  to  that  of  the  fallow-deer.  The 
•wines  were  excellent,  the  company  agreeable  in  all  re- 
spects, and  altogether  I  do  not  remember  to  have  passed 
a  more  pleasant  evening,  than  that  of  my  first  arrival 
at  New  York. 


CHAPTER    II. 

NEW  YORK. 

I  HAD  nearly  completed  my  toilet  on  the  morning 
after  my  arrival,  when  the  tinkling  of  a  large  bell  gave 
intimation,  that  the  hour  of  breakfast  was  come.  I 
accordingly  descended  as  speedily  as  possible  to  the  salle 
It  manger,  and  found  a  considerable  party  engaged  in 
doing  justice  to  a  meal,  which,  at  first  glance,  one  would 
scarcely  have  guessed  to  be  a  breakfast.  Solid  viands 
of  all  descriptions  loaded  the  table,  while,  in  the  occa- 
sional intervals,  were  distributed  dishes  of  rolls,  toast, 
and  cakes  of  buckwheat  and  Indian  corn.  At  the  head 
of  the  table,  sat  the  landlady,  who,  with  an  air  of  com- 
placent dignity,  was  busied  in  the  distribution  of  tea 
and  coffee.  A  large  bevy  of  negroes  was  bustling 
about,  ministering  with  all  possible  alacrity,  to  the 
many  wants  which  were  somewhat  vociferously  ob- 
truded on  their  attention.  Towards  the  upper  end  of 
the  table,  I  observed  about  a  dozen  ladies,  but  by  far 
the  larger  portion  of  the  company  were  of  the  other 
sex. 

The  contrast  of  the  whole  scene,  with  that  of  an  En- 
glish breakfast-table,  was  striking  enough.  Here  was 
no  loitering  nor  lounging ;  no  dipping  into  newspapers ; 
no  apparent  lassitude  of  appetite ;  no  intervals  of  repose 
.in  mastication ;  but  all  was  hurry,  bustle,  clamour,  an(J 


LETTERS  OF  INTRODUCTION.  21 

voracity,  and  the  business  of  repletion  went  forward, 
with  a  rapidity  altogether  unexampled.  The  strenuous 
efforts  of  the  company  were,  of  course,  soon  rewarded 
with  success.  Departures,  which  had  begun  even  be- 
fore I  took  my  place  at  the  table,  became  every  instant 
more  numerous,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  apartment 
had  become,  what  Moore  beautifully  describes  in  one 
of  his  songs,  "  a  banquet-hall  deserted."  The  appear- 
ance of  the  table,  under  such  circumstances,  was  by  no 
means  gracious,  either  to  the  eye  or  the  fancy.  It  was 
strewed  thickly  with  the  disjecta  membra  of  the  enter- 
tainment. Here,  lay  fragments  of  fish,  somewhat  un- 
pleasantly odoriferous;  there,  the  skeleton  of  a  chicken; 
on  the  right,  a  mustard-pot  upset,  and  the  cloth,  passim, 
defiled  with  stains  of  eggs,  coffee,  gravy — but  I  will  not 
go  on  with  the  picture.  One  nasty  custom,  however,  I 
must  notice.  Eggs,  instead  of  being  eat  from  the  shell, 
are  poured  into  a  wine-glass,  and  after  being  duly  and 
disgustingly  churned  up  with  butter  and  condiment,  the 
mixture,  according  to  its  degree  of  fluidity,  is  forthwith 
either  spooned  into  the  mouth,  or  drunk  off  like  a  li- 
quid. The  advantage  gained  by  this  unpleasant  pro- 
cess, I  do  not  profess  to  be  qualified  to  appreciate,  but 
I  can  speak  from  experience,  to  its  sedative  effect  on 
the  appetite  of  an  unpractised  beholder. 

My  next  occupation  was  to  look  over  my  letters  of 
introduction.  Of  these  I  found  above  thirty  addressed 
to  New  York,  and  being  by  no  means  anxious  to  become 
involved  in  so  wide  a  vortex  of  acquaintance,  I  request- 
ed one  of-my  American  fellow- passengers  to  select  such, 
as,  from  his  local  knowledge,  he  imagined  might  prove 
of  more  immediate  service  to  a  traveller  like  myself. 
In  consequence  of  this  arrangement,  about  half  the  let- 
ters with  which  the  kindness  of  my  friends  had  furnished 
me,  were  discarded,  and  I  can  truly  say,  that  the  very 
warm  and  obliging  reception  I  experienced  from  those 
to  whom  I  forwarded  introductions,  left  me  no  room  to 
regret  the  voluntary  limitation  of  their  number. 

Having  despatched  my  letters,  and  the  morning  being 
wet,  I  remained  at  home,  busied  in  throwing  together  a 
few  memoranda  of  such  matters,  as  appeared  worthy  of 
record,  My  labours,  however,  were  soon  interrupted. 


22  AMERICAN  GENTLEMEN. 

Several  gentlemen  who  had  heard  of  my  arrival  through 
the  medium  of  my  fellow-passengers,  but  on  whose  ci- 
vility I  had  no  claim,  did  me  the  honour  to  call,  tender- 
ing a  welcome  to  their  city,  and  the  still  more  obliging 
offer  of  their  services.  My  letters,  too,  did  not  fail  of 
procuring  me  a  plentiful  influx  of  visiters.  Numerous 
invitations  followed,  and  by  the  extreme  kindness  of  my 
new  friends,  free  admission  was  at  once  afforded  me  to 
the  best  society  in  New  York. 

The  first  impression  made  by  an  acquaintance  with 
the  better  educated  order  of  American  gentlemen,  is 
certainly  very  pleasing.  There  is  a  sort  of  republican 
plainness  and  simplicity  in  their  address,  quite  in  har- 
mony with  the  institutions  of  their  country.  An  Ame- 
rican bows  less  than  an  Englishman;  he  deals  less  in 
mere  conventional  forms  and  expressions  of  civility;  he 
pays  few  or  no  compliments;  makes  no  unmeaning  or 
overstrained  professions ;  but  he  takes  you  by  the  hand 
with  a  cordiality  which  at  once  intimates,  that  he  is 
disposed  to  regard  you  as  a  friend.  Of  that  higher  grace 
of  manner,  inseparable  perhaps  from  the  artificial  dis- 
tinctions of  European  society,  and  of  which  even  those 
most  conscious  of  its  hollowness,  cannot  always  resist  the 
attraction,  few  specimens  are  of  course  to  be  found,  in 
a  country  like  the  United  States;  but  of  this  I  am  sure, 
that  such  a  reception  as  I  have  experienced  in  New 
York,  is  far  more  gratifying  to  a  stranger,  than  the  farce 
of  ceremony,  however  gracefully  it  may  be  performed. 

Perhaps  I  was  the  more  flattered  by  the  kindness  of 
my  reception,  from  having  formed  anticipations  of  a  less 
pleasing  character.  The  Americans  I  had  met  in  Eu- 
rope had  generally  been  distinguished  by  a  certain  re- 
serve, and  something  even  approaching  to  the  offensive 
in  manner,  which  had  not  contributed  to  create  a  pre- 
possession in  their  favour.  It  seemed,  as  if  each  indi- 
vidual were  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  the 
whole  dignity  of  his  country  was  concentred  in  his  per- 
son ;  and  I  imagined  them  too  much  given  to  disturb  the 
placid  current  of  social  intercourse,  by  the  obtrusion  of 
national  jealousies,  and  the  cravings  of  a  restless  and  in- 
ordinate vanity.  It  is,  indeed,  highly  probable,  that 
these  unpleasant  peculiarities  were  called  into  more 


AMERICANS  IN  EUROPE.  23 

frequent  display,  by  that  air  of  haughty  repulsion,  in 
which  too  many  of  my  countrymen  have  the  bad  taste 
to  indulge;  but  even  from  what  I  have  already  seen,  I 
feel  sure  that  an  American  at  home,  is  a  very  different 
person  from  an  American  abroad.  With  his  foot  on  his 
native  soil,  he  appears  in  his  true  character;  he  moves 
in  the  sphere,  for  which  his  habits  and  education  have 
peculiarly  adapted  him,  and  surrounded  by  his  fellow- 
citizens,  he  at  once  gets  rid  of  the  embarrassing  convic- 
tion, that  he  is  regarded  as  an  individual  impersonation 
of  the  whole  honour  of  the  Union.  In  England,  he  is 
generally  anxious  to  demonstrate  by  indifference  of 
manner,  that  he  is  not  dazzled  by  the  splendour  which 
surrounds  him,  and  too  solicitously  forward  in  denying 
the  validity  of  all  pretensions,  which  he  fears  the  world 
may  consider  as  superior  to  his  own.  But  in  his  own 
country,  he  stands  confessedly  on  a  footing  with  the 
highest;  His  national  vanity  remains  unruffled  by  op- 
position or  vexatious  comparison,  and  his  life  passes  on 
in  a  dreamy  and  complacent  contemplation  of  the  high 
part,  which,  in  her  growing  greatness,  the  United  States 
is  soon  to  assume,  in  the  mighty  drama  of  the  world. 
His  imagination  is  no  longer  troubled  with  visions  of 
lords  and  palaces,  and  footmen  in  embroidery  and  cocked 
hats ;  or,  if  he  think  of  these  things  at  all,  it  is  in  a  spirit 
far  more  philosophical,  than  that  with  which  he  once 
regarded  them.  Connected  with  England  by  commer- 
cial relations,  by  community  of  literature,  and  a  thou- 
sand ties,  which  it  will  still  require  centuries  to  oblite- 
rate, he  carmot  regard  her  destinies  without  deep 
interest.  In  the  contests  in  which,  by  the  calls  of  ho- 
nour, or  by  the  folly  of  her  rulers,  she  may  be  engaged, 
the  reason  of  an  American  may  be  against  England,  but 
his  heart  is  always  with  her.  He  is  ever  ready  to  ex- 
tend to  her  sons,  the  rites  of  kindness  and  hospitality, 
and  is  more  flattered  by  their  praise,  and  more  keenly 
sensitive  to  their  censure,  than  is  perhaps  quite  consist- 
ent with  a  just  estimate,  of  the  true  value  of  either. 

I  remember  no  city  which  has  less  to  show  in  the  way 
of  Lions  than  New  York.  The  whole  interest  attach- 
ing to  it,  consists  in  the  general  appearance  of  the  place; 
in  the  extreme  activity  and  bustle  which  is  every  where 


24  PUBLIC  BUILDINGS  OF  NEW  YORK. 

apparent,  and  in  the  rapid  advances  which  it  has  made, 
and  is  still  making,  in  opulence  and  population.  In  an 
architectural  view,  New  York  has  absolutely  nothing 
to  arrest  the  attention.  The  only  building  of  preten- 
sion is  the  State-House,  or  City-Hall,  in  which  the 
courts  of  law  hold  their  sittings.  In  form,  it  is  an  ob- 
long parallelogram,  two  stories  in  height,  exclusive  of 
the  basement,  with  an  Ionic  portico  V>f  white  marble, 
which  instead  of  a  pediment,  is  unfortunately  surmount- 
ed by  a  balcony.  Above  is  a  kind  of  lantern  or  pepper- 
box, which  the  taste  of  the  architect  has  led  him  to 
substitute  for  a  dome.  From  the  want  of  simplicity, 
the  effect  of  the  whole  is  poor,  and  certainly  not  im- 
proved by  the  vicinity  of  a  very  ugly  jail,  which  might 
be  advantageously  removed  to  some  less  obtrusive  si- 
tuation. 

The  Exchange  is  a  petty  affair,  and  unworthy  of  a 
community  so  large  and  opulent  as  that  of  New  York. 
With  regard  to  churches,  those  frequented  by  the 
wealthier  classes  are  built  of  stone,  but  the  great  majo- 
rity are  of  timber.  Their  architecture  in  general  is 
anomalous  enough;  and  the  wooden  spires,  terminating 
in  gorgeous  weathercocks,  are  as  gay  as  the  lavish  em- 
ployment of  the  painter's  brush  can  make  them. 

But  the  chief  attraction  of  New  York  is  the  Broad- 
way, which  runs  through  the  whole  extent  of  the  city, 
and  forms  as  it  were  the  central  line  from  which  the 
other  streets  diverge  to  the  quays  on  the  Hudson  and 
East  River.  It  is  certainly  a  handsome  street,  and  the 
complete  absence  of  regularity  in  the  buildings,— which 
are  of  all  sizes  and  materials,  from  the  wooden  cottage 
of  one  story,  to  the  massive  brick  edifice  of  five  or  six, — 
gives  to  Broadway  a  certain  picturesque  effect,  incom- 
patible, perhaps,  with  greater  regularity  of  architec- 
ture. The  sides  are  skirted  by  a  row  of  stunted  and 
miserable-looking  poplars,  useless  either  for  shade  or  or- 
nament, which  breaks  the  unity  of  the  street  without 
compensation  of  any  sort.  The  shops  in  Broadway  are 
the  depots  of  all  the  fashionable  merchandise  of  the 
city,  but  somewhat  deficient  in  external  attractions,  to 
eyes  accustomed  to  the  splendour  of  display  in  Regent 
Street,  or  Oxford  Road.  About  two  o'clock,  however, 


LADIES  OF  NEW  YORK.  35 

the  scene  in  Broadway  becomes  one  of  pleasing  bustle 
and  animation.  The  trottoirs  are  then  crowded  with 
gaily  dressed  ladies,  and  that  portion  of  the  younger 
population,  whom  the  absence  of  more  serious  employ- 
ment enables  to  appear  in  the  character  of  beaux.  The 
latter,  however,  is  small.  From  the  general  air  and 
appearance  of  the  people,  it  is  quite  easy  to  gather,  that 
trade  in  some  of  its  various  branches,  is  the  engrossing 
object  of  every  one,  from  the  youth  of  fifteen  to  the  ve- 
teran of  fourscore,  who-,  from  force  of  habit,  still  lags 
superfluous  on  the  Exchange.  There  are  no  morning 
loungers  in  New  York;  and  the  ladies  generally  walk 
unattended ;  but  in  the  evening,  I  am  told,  it  is  differ- 
ent, and  the  business  of  gallantry  goes  on  quite  as  hope- 
fully, as  on  our  side  of  the  water. 

I  have  observed  many  countenances  remarkable  for 
beauty,  among  the  more  youthful  portion  of  the  fair 
promenaders.  But,  unfortunately,  beauty  in  this  cli- 
mate is  not  durable.  Like  "  the  ghosts  of  Banquo's 
fated  line,"  it  comes  like  a  shadow,  and  so  departs.  At 
one  or  two-and-twenty  the  bloom  of  an  American  lady 
is  gone,  and  the  more  substantial  materials  of  beauty 
follow  soon  after.  At  thirty  the  whole  fabric  is  in  de- 
cay, and  nothing  remains  but  the  tradition  of  former 
conquests,  and  anticipations  of  the  period,  when  her 
reign  of  triumph  will  be  vicariously  restored  in  the  per- 
son of  her  daughter. 

The  fashions  of  Paris  reach  even  to  New  York,  and 
the  fame  of  Madame  Maradan  Carson  has  already  tran- 
scended the  limits  of  the  Old  World,  and  is  diffused  over 
the  New.  1  pretend  to  be  something  of  a  judge  in  such 
matters,  and  therefore  pronounce  ex  cathedra,  that  the 
ladies  of  New  York  are  well  dressed,  and  far  from  inele- 
gant. The  average  of  height  is  certainly  lower  than 
among  my  fair  countrywomen;  the  cheek  is  without 
colour,  and  the  figure  sadly  deficient  in  en-bon-point. 
But  with  all  these  disadvantages,  1  do  not  remember  to 
have  seen  more  beauty  than  I  have  met  in  New  York. 
The  features  are  generally  finely  moulded,  and  not  un- 
frequcntly  display  a  certain  delightful  harmony,  which 
reminds  one  of  the  /;•'<'//<:  Donne,  of  St.  Peter's  and  the 
Pincian  Mount.  The  mouth  alone  is  not  beautiful ;  it 

4 


%Q          LAW  COURTS  OF  NEW  YORK. 

rarely  possesses  the  charm  of  fine  teeth,  and  the  lips 
want  colour  and  fulness.  The  carriage  of  these  fair 
Americans  is  neither  French  nor  English,  for  they  have 
the  good  sense  to  adopt  the  peculiarities  of  neither. 
They  certainly  do  not  paddle  along,  with  the  short 
steps  and  affected  carriage  of  a  Parisian  belle,  nor  do 
they  consider  it  becoming,  to  walk  the  streets  with  the 
stride  of  a  grenadier.  In  short,  though  I  may  have  occa- 
sionally encountered  more  grace,  than  has  met  my  ob- 
servation since  my  arrival  in  the  United  States,  as- 
suredly 1  have  never  seen  less  of  external  deportment, 
which  the  most  rigid  and  fastidious  critic  could  fairly 
censure. 

One  of  my  earliest  occupations  was  to  visit  the  courts 
6f  law.  In  the  first  I  entered,  there  were  two  judges 
on  the  bench,  and  a  jury  in  the  box,  engaged  in  the 
trial  of  an  action  of  assault  and  battery,  committed 
by  one  female  on  another.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to 
conceive  the  administration  of  justice  invested  with 
fewer  forms.  Judges  and  barristers  were  both  wig- 
less  and  govvnless,  and  dressed  in  garments  of  such 
colour  and  fashion,  as  the  taste  of  the  individual  might 
dictate.  There  was  no  mace,  nor  external  symbol  of 
authority  of  any  sort,  except  the  staves  which  I  observed 
in  the  hands  of  a  few  constables,  or  officers  of  the  court. 
In  the  trial  there  was  no  more  interest  than  what  the 
quarrel  of  two  old  women,  in  any  country,  may  be  sup- 
posed to  excite.  The  witnesses,  I  thought,  gave  their 
evidence  with  a  greater  appearance  of  phlegm  and  in- 
difference than  is  usual  in  our  courts  at  home.  No  one 
seemed  to  think,  that  any  peculiar  decorum  of  deport- 
ment was  demanded  by  the  solemnity  of  the  court.  The 
first  witness  examined,  held  the  Bible  in  one  hand, 
while  he  kept  the  other  in  his  breeches  pocket,  and,  in 
giving  his  evidence,  stood  lounging  with  his  arm  thrown 
over  the  bench.  The  judges  were  men  about  fifty,  with 
nothing  remarkable  in  the  mode  of  discharging  their 
duty.  The  counsel  were  younger,  and,  so  far  as  1  could 
judge,  by  no  means  deficient  either  in  zeal  for  the  cause 
of  their  clients,  or  ingenuity  in  maintaining  it.  The 
only  unpleasant  part  of  the  spectacle, — for  I  do  not 
suppose  that  justice  could  be  administered  in  any  coun- 


OBSERVATIONS.  37 

try  with  greater  substantial  purity, — was  the  incessant 
salivation  going  forward  in  all  parts  of  the  court.  Judges, 
counsel,  jury,  witnesses,  officers,  and  audience,  all  con- 
tributed to  augment  the  mass  of  abomination  ;  and  the 
floor  around  the  table  of  the  lawyers  presented  an  ap- 
pearance, on  which  even  now  I  find  it  not  very  plea- 
sant for  the  imagination  to  linger. 

Having  satisfied  my  curiosity  in  this  court,  I  entered 
another,  which  I  was  informed  was  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  State.  The  proceedings  here  were,  if  possible, 
less  interesting  than  those  I  had  already  witnessed. 
The  court  were  engaged  in  hearing  arguments  con- 
nected with  a  bill  of  exchange,  anjd,  whether  in  Ame- 
rica or  England,  a  speech  on  such  a  subject  must  be  a 
dull  affair;  I  was  therefore  on  the  point  of  departing, 
when  a  jury,  which  had  previously  retired  to  deliberate, 
came  into  court,  and  proceeded  in  the  usual  form  to  de- 
liver their  verdict.  It  was  not  without  astonishment,  I 
confess,  that  I  remarked  that  three-fourths  of  the  jury- 
men were  engaged  in  eating  bread  and  cheese,  and 
that  the  foreman  actually  announced  the  verdict  with 
his  mouth  full*  ejecting  the  disjointed  syllables  during 
the  intervals  of  mastication !  In  truth,  an  American 
seems  to  look  on  a  judge,  exactly  as  he  does  on  a  car- 
penter or  coppersmith,  and  it  never  occurs  to  him,  that 
an  administrator  of  justice  is  entitled  to  greater  respect 
than  a  constructor  of  brass  knockers,  or  the  sheather  of 
a  ship's  bottom.  The  judge  and  the  brazier  are  paid 
equally  for  their  work;  and  Jonathan  firmly  believes, 
that  while  he  has  money  in  his  pocket,  there  is  no  rifik 
of  his  suffering  from  the  want  either  of  law  or  warming 
pans. 

I  cannot  think,  however,  that,  with  respect  to  these 
matters,  legislation  in  this  country  has  proceeded  on 
very  sound  or  enlightened  principles.  A  very  clever 
lawyer  asked  me  last  night,  whether  the  sight  of  their 
courts  had  not  cured  me  of  my  John  Bullish  predilection 
for  robes,  wigs,  and  maces,  and  all  the  other  trumpery 
and  irrational  devices,  for  imposing  on  weak  minds.  I 
answered,  it  had  not;  nay,  so  far  was  the  case  other- 
wise, that  had  I  before  been  disposed  to  question  the 
utility  of  those  forms  to  which  he  objected,  what  I  had 


28  OBSERVATIONS. 

witnessed  since  my  arrival  in  New  York,  would  have 
removed  all  doubts  on  the  subject.  A  good  deal  of 
discussion  followed,  and  though  each  of  us  persisted  in 
maintaining  our  own  opinion,  it  is  only  justice  to  state, 
that  the  argument  was  conducted  by  my  opponent  with 
the  utmost  liberality  and  fairness.  I  refrain  from  giving 
the  details  of  this  conversation,  because  a  "  proto- 
col,' signed  only  by  one  of  the  parties,  is  evidently  a  do- 
cument of  no  weight,  and  where  a  casuist  enjoys  the 
privilege  of  adducing  the  arguments  on  both  sides,  it 
would  imply  an  almost  superhuman  degree  of  self-de- 
nial, were  he  not  to  urge  the  best  on  his  own,  and  range 
himself  on  the  side  o/  the  gods,  leaving  that  of  Cato  to 
his  opponent. 

ft  is  a  custom  in  this  country  to  ask,  and  generally 
with  an  air  of  some  triumph,  whether  an  Englishman 
supposes  there  is  wisdom  in  a  wig;  and  whether  a  few 
pounds  of  horsehair  set  on  a  judge's  skull,  and  plastered 
with  pomatum  and  powder,  can  be  imagined  to  bring 
with  it  any  increase  of  knowledge  to  the  mind  of  the 
person  whose  cranium  is  thus  disagreeably  enveloped? 
The  answer  is,  No;  we  by  no  means  hold,  either  that  a 
head  au  naturel,  or  that  garments  of  fustian  or  cordu- 
roy, are  at  all  unfavourable  to  legal  discrimination;  and 
are  even  ready  to  admit,  that  in  certain  genial  regions, 
a  judge  in  cuerpo,  and  seated  on  a  wooden  stool,  might 
be  as  valuable  and  efficient  an  administrator  of  law,  as 
one  vvigged  to  the  middle,  and  clad  in  scarlet  and  er- 
mine. But  whatever  American  is  so  deficient  in  dia- 
lectic, as  to  imagine  that  this  admission  involves^  sur- 
render of  the  question  in  debate,  we  would  beg  leave 
respectfully  to  remind  him,  that  the  schoolmaster  is 
abroad,  and  recommend  him  to  improve  his  logic  with 
the  least  possible  delay.  If  man  were  a  being  of  pure 
reason,  forms  would  be  unnecessary.  But  he  who  should 
legislate  on  such  an  assumption,  would  afford  ample 
evidence  of  his  own  unh'tness  for  the  task.  Man  is  a 
creature  of  senses  and  imagination,  and  even  in  reli- 
gion, the  whole  experience  of  the  world  has  borne  tes- 
timony to  the  necessity  of  some  external  rite,  or  solemni- 
ty of  observance,  to  stimulate  his  devotion,  and  enable 
him  to  concentrate  his  faculties,  for  the  worship  of  that 


DINNER  AT  THE  HOTEL.  29 

awful  and  incomprehensible  Being,  "whose  kingdom  is, 
where  time  and  space  are  not."  It  is  difficult  to  see 
on  what  principle,  those  who  approve  the  stole  of  the 
priest,  and  cover  their  generals  and  admirals  wilh  gold 
lace,  can  condemn  as  irrational,  all  external  symbols  of 
dignity,  on  the  part  of  the  judge.  Let  the  Americans 
at  all  events  be  consistent:  While  they  address  their 
judges  by  a  title  of  honour,  let  them  at  least  be  protect- 
ed from  rudeness,  and  vulgar  familiarity;  and  they 
may,  perhaps,  be  profitably  reminded,  that  the  respect 
exacted  in  a  British  court  of  justice,  is  homage  not  to 
the  individual  seated  on  the  bench,  but  to  the  law,  in 
the  person  of  its  minister.  Law  is  the  only  bond  by 
which  society  is  held  together;  its  administration,  there- 
fore, should  ever  be  marked  out  to  the  imagination,  as 
well  as  to  the  reason  of  the  great  body  of  a  nation,  as 
an  act  of  peculiar  and  paramount  solemnity;  and  when 
an  Englishman  sees  the  decencies  of  life  habitully  vio- 
lated in  the  very  seat  of  justice,  he  naturally  feels  the 
less  disposed  to  dispense  with  those  venerable  forms 
with  which,  in  his  own  country,  it  has  been  wisely  en- 
circled. Our  answer  therefore  is,  that  it  is  precisely  to 
avoid  such  a  stale  of  things  as  now  exists  in  the  American 
courts,  that  the  solemnities  which  invest  the  discharge 
of  the  judicial  office  in  England,  were  originally  imposed, 
and  are  still  maintained.  We  regard  ceremonies  of  all 
sorts,  not  as  things  important  in  themselves,  but  simply 
as  means  conducing  to  an  end.  It  matters  not  by  what 
particular  process;  by  what  routine  of  observance;  by 
what  visible  attributes  the  dignity  of  justice  is  asserted, 
and  its  sanctity  impressed  on  the  memory  and  imagina- 
tion. But  at  least  let  this  end,  by  some  means  or  other, 
be  secured:  arid  if  this  be  done,  we  imagine  there  is 
little  chance  of  our  adopting  many  of  the  forensic  ha- 
bits of  our  friends  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

At  New  York,  the  common  dinner  hour  is  three 
o'clock,  and  I  accordingly  hurried  back  to  the  hotei 
Having  made  such  changes  and  ablutions  as  the  heat 
of  the  court  rooms  had  rendered  necessary,  I  descended 
to  the  bar,  an  apartment  furnished  with  a  counter, 
across  which  supplies  of  spirits  and  cigars  are  furnished 
.to  all  who  desiderate  such  luxuries.  The  bar,  in  short, 


30  DINNER  AT   THE  HOTEL." 

is  the  lounging  place  of  the  establishment;  and  here, 
'  when  the  hour  of  dinner  is  at  hand,  the  whole  inmates 
of  the  hotel  may  be  found  collected.  On  the  present 
occasion,  the  room  was  so  full,  that  I  really  found  it 
difficult  to  get  farther  than  the  door.  At  length  a  bell 
sounded,  and  no  sooner  did  its  first  vibration  reach  the 
ears  of  the  party,  than  a  sudden  rush  took  place  to- 
wards the  dining-room,  in  which — being  carried  for- 
ward by  the  crowd — 1  soon  found  myself.  The  ex- 
treme precipitation  of  this  movement  appeared  some- 
what uncalled  for,  as  there  was  evidently  no  difficulty 
in  procuring  places;  and  on  looking  round  the  apart- 
ment, I  perceived  the  whole  party  comfortably  seated. 

To  a  gentleman  with  a  keen  appetite,  the  coup  d'oeil 
of  the  dinner-table  was  far  from  unpleasing.  The  num- 
ber of  disties  was  very  great.  The  sty  leof  cookery  neither 
French  nor  English,  though  certainly  approaching  nearer 
to  the  latter  than  to  the  former.  The  dressed  dishes 
were  decidedly  bad,  the  sauces  being  composed  of  little 
else  than  liquid  grease,  which,  to  a  person  like  myself, 
who  have  an  inherent  detestation  of  every  modification 
of  oleaginous  matter,  was  an  objection  altogether  insupe- 
rable. On  the  whole,  however,  it  would  be  unjust  to  com- 
plain. If,  as  the  old  adage  hath  it,  "  in  the  multitude 
of  counsellors  there  is  wisdom,"  so  may  it  be  averred, 
as  equally  consistent  with  human  experience,  that  in 
the  multitude  of  dishes  there  is  good  eating.  After  seve- 
ral unsuccessful  experiments  I  did  discover  unobjection- 
able viands,  and  made  as  good  a  dinner,  as  the  am- 
bition of  an  old  campaigner  could  desire. 

Around  I  beheld  the  same  scene  of  gulping  and  swal- 
lowing, as  if  for  a  wager,  which  my  observations  at 
•breakfast  had  prepared  me  to  expect.  In  my  own 
neighbourhood  there  was  no  conversation.  Each  in- 
dividual seemed  to  pitchfork  his  food  down  his  gullet, 
without  the  smallest  attention  to  the  wants  of  his  neigh- 
bour. If  you  asked  a  gentleman  to  help  you  from  any 
dish  before  him,  he  certainly  complied,  but  in  a  man- 
ner that  showed  you  had  imposed  on  him  a  disagreea- 
ble office;  and,  instead  of  a  slice,  your  plate  generally 
returned  loaded  with  a  solid  massive  wedge  of  animal 
inatter.  The  New  York  carvers  had  evidently  never 


AMERICAN  MODE  OF  EATING.  31 

graduated  at  Vauxhall.  Brandy  bottles  were  ranged 
at  intervals  along  the  table,  from  which  each  guest 
helped  himself  as  he  thought  proper.  As  the  dinner 
advanced,  the  party  rapidly  diminished:  before  the 
second  course,  a  considerable  portion  had  taken  their 
departure,  and  comparatively  few  waited  the  appear- 
ance of  the  dessert.  Though  brandy  was  the  prevail- 
ing beverage,  there  were  many  also  who  drank  wine, 
and  a  small  knot  of  three  or  four  (whom  I  took  to  be 
countrymen  of  my  own)  were  still  continuing  the  ca- 
rousal when  I  left  the  apartment. 

An  American  is  evidently  by  no  means  a  convivial 
being.  He  seems  to  consider  eating  and  drinking  as 
necessary  tasks,  which  he  is  anxious  to  discharge  as 
speedily  as  possible.  I  was  at  first  disposed  to  attribute 
this  singularity  to  the  claims  of  business,  which,  in  a 
mercantile  community,  might  be  found  inconsistent 
with  more  prolonged  enjoyment  of  the  table.  But 
this  theory  was  soon  relinquished,  for  I  could  not  but 
observe,  that  many  of  the  most  expeditious  bolters  of 
dinner  spent  several  hours  afterwards,  in  smoking  and 
lounging  at  the  bar. 

At  six  o'clock  the  bell  rings  for  tea,  when  the  party 
musters  again,  though  generally  in  diminished  force. 
This  meal  is  likewise  provided  with  its  due  proportion 
of  solids.  The  most  remarkable  was  raw  hung  beef, 
cut  into  thin  slices,  of  which, — horresco  referens, — I 
observed  that  even  ladies  did  not  hesitate  to  partake. 
The  tea  and  coffee  were  both  execrable.  A  supper,  of 
cold  meat,  &c.,  follows  at  ten  o'clock,  and  remains  on 
the  table  till  twelve,  when  eating  terminates  for  the  day. 
Such  is  the  unvarying  routine  of  a  New  York  hotel. 

On  the  first  Sunday  after  my  arrival,  I  attended  di- 
vine service  in  Grace  Church,  which  is  decidedly  the 
most  fashionable  place  of  worship  in  New  York.  The 
congregation,  though  very  numerous,  was  composed 
almost  exclusively  of  the  wealthier  class;  and  the  gay 
dresses  of  the  ladies, — whose  taste  generally  leads  to  a 
preference  of  the  brightest  colours, — produced  an  ef- 
fect not  unlike  that  of  a  bed  of  tulips.  Nearly  in  front 
of  the  reading-desk,  a  comfortable  chair  and  hassock 
had  been  provided  for  a  poor  old  woman,  apparently 


32  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH  OF  AMERICA. 

about  fourscore.  There  was  something  very  pleasing 
in  this  considerate  and  benevolent  attention  to  the  in- 
firmities of  a  helpless  and  withered  creature,  who  pro- 
bably had  outlived  her  friends,  and  was  soon  about  to 
rejoin  them  in  the  grave. 

The  Episcopal  church  of  America  differs  little  in 
formula  from  that  of  England.  The  liturgy  is  the 
same,  though  here  and  there  an  expression  has  been  al- 
tered, not  always,  I  think,  for  the  better.  In  the  first 
clause  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  for  instance,  the  word 
"which"  has  been  changed  into  "who,"  on  the  score 
of  its  being  more  consonant  to  grammatical  propriety. 
This  is  poor  criticism,  for,  it  will  scarcely  be  denied, 
that  the  use  of  the  neuter  pronoun  carried  with  it  a 
certain  vagueness  and  sublimity,  not  inappropriate  in 
reminding  us,  that  our  worship  is  addressed  to  a  Being 
incomprehensible,  infinite,  and  superior  to  all  the  dis- 
tinctions applicable  to  material  objects.  In  truth,  the 
grammatical  anomaly  so  obnoxious  to  the  American 
critics,  is  not  a  blemish,  but  a  felicity.  A  few  judi- 
cious retrenchments  have  also  been  made  in  the  ser- 
vice; and  many  of  those  repetitions  which  tend  sadly 
to  dilute  the  devotional  feeling,  by  overstraining  the 
attention,  have  been  removed. 

Trinity  Church,  in  Broadway,  is  remarkable  as  being 
the  most  richly  endowed  establishment  in  the  Union, 
and  peculiarly  interesting  from  containing  in  its  ceme- 
tery the  remains  of  the  celebrated  General  Hamilton.  I 
have  always  regarded  the  melancholy  fate  of  this  great 
statesman  with  interest.  Hamilton  was  an  American, 
not  by  birth,  but  by  adoption.  He  was  born  in  the 
West  Indies,  but  claimed  descent  from  a  respectable 
Scottish  family.  It  may  be  truly  said  of  him,  that  with 
every  temptation  to  waver  in  his  political  course,  the 
path  he  followed  was  a  straight  one.  He  was  too  ho- 
nest, and  too  independent,  to  truckle  to  a  mob,  and  too 
proud  to  veil  or  modify  opinions,  which,  he  must  have 
known,  were  little  calculated  to  secure  popular  favour. 
Hamilton  brought  to  the  task  of  legislation  a  powerful 
and  perspicacious  intellect;  and  a  memory  stored  with 
the  results  of  the  experience  of  past  ages.  He  viewed 
mankind  not  as  a  theorist,  but  as  a  practical  philoso- 


CHARACTER  OF  GENERAL  HAMILTON.  33 

pher,  and  was  never  deceived  by  the  false  and  flimsy 
dogmas  of  human  perfectibility,  which  dazzled  the 
weaker  vision  of  such  men  as  Jefferson  and  Madison. 
In  activity  of  mind,  in  soundness  of  judgment,  and  in 
the  power  of  comprehensive  induction,  he  unquestion- 
ably stood  the  first  man  of  his  age  and  country.  While 
the  apprehensions  of  other  statesmen  were  directed 
against  the  anticipated  encroachments  of  the  executive 
power,  Hamilton  saw  clearly  that  the  true  danger  me- 
naced from  another  quarter.  He  was  well  aware  that 
democracy,  not  monarchy,  was  the  rock  on  which  the 
future  destinies  of  his  country  were  in  peril  of  ship- 
wreck. He  was,  therefore,  desirous  that  the  new  Fe- 
deral Constitution  should  be  framed,  as  much  as  possi- 
ble, on  the  model  of  that  of  England,  which,  beyond  all 
previous  experience,  had  been  found  to  produce  the  re- 
sult of  secure  and  rational  liberty.  It  is  a  false  charge 
on  Hamilton,  that  he  contemplated  the  introduction  of 
monarchy,  or  of  the  corruptions  which  had  contributed 
to  impair  the  value  of  the  British  constitution;  but  he 
certainly  was  anxious  that  a  salutary  and  effective  check 
should  be  found  in  the  less  popular  of  the  legislative 
bodies,  on  the"  occasional,  rash  and  hasty  impulses  of 
the  other.  He  was  favourable  to  a  senate  chosen  for 
life;  to  a  federal  government  sufficiently  strong  to  en- 
force its  decrees  in  spite  of  party  opposition,  and  the 
conflicting  jealousies  of  the  different  states;  to  a  repre- 
sentation rather  founded  on  property  and  intelligence 
than  on  mere  numbers;  and,  perhaps,  of  the  two  evils, 
would  have  preferred  the  tyranny  of  a  single  dictator, 
to  the  more  degraded  despotism  of  a  mob. 

Hamilton  was  snatched  from  his  country,  in  the 
prime  of  life  and  of  intellect.  Had  he  lived,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  foresee  what  influence  his  powerful  mind  might 
have  exercised  on  the  immediate  destinies  of  his  counr 
try.  By  his  talents  and  unrivalled  powers  as  an  orator, 
he  might  have  gained  fair  audience,  and  some  tempo- 
rary favour,  for  his  opinions.  But  this  could  not  have 
been  lasting.  His  doctrines  of  government  in  their 
very  nature  were  necessarily  unpopular.  The  Fede- 
ralist party  from  the  first  occupied  a  false  position. 
They  attempted  to  convince  the  multitude  of  their  uiv- 

5 


34  MONUMENT  IN  TRINITY  CHURCH. 

fitness  for  the  exercise  of  political  power.  This  of 
course  failed.  The  influence  they  obtained  in  the  pe- 
riod immediately  succeeding  the  revolution,  was  solely 
that  of  talent  and  character.  Being  personal,  it  died 
with  the  men,  and  sometimes  before  them.  It  was 
impossible  for  human  efforts  to  diminish  the  democratic 
impulse  given  by  the  revolution,  or  to  be  long  success- 
ful in  retarding  its  increase.  In  the  very  first  struggle, 
the  Federalists  were  defeated  once  and  for  ever,  and 
the  tenure  of  power  by  the  Republican  party  has  ever 
since,  with  one  brief  and  partial  exception,  continued 
unbroken. 

There  is  another  tomb  which  I  would  notice  before 
quitting  the  church-yard  of  Trinity.  On  a  slab  sur- 
mounting an  oblong  pile  of  masonry,  are  engraved  the 
following  words: 

MY  MOTHER. 

THE  TRUMPET  SHALL  SOUND,  AND  THE  DEAD  SHALL 
ARISE. 

This  is  the  whole  inscription;  and  as  I  read  the 
words  I  could  not  but  feel  it  to  be  sublimely  affect- 
ing. The  name  of  him  who  erected  this  simple  monu- 
ment of  fili.il  piety,  or  of  her  whose  dust  it  covers,  is 
unpreserved  by  tradition.  Why  should  that  be  told, 
which  the  world  cares  not  to  know?  It  is  enough, 
that  the  nameless  tenant  of  this  humble  grave  fhall  be 
known,  "  when  the  trumpet  shall  sound  and  the  dead 
shall  arise."  Let  us  trust,  that  the  mother  and  her 
child  will  then  be  reunited,  to  part  no  more. 

One  of  the  earliest  occupations  of  a  traveller  in  a 
strange  city,  is  to  visit  the  theatres.  There  are  three 
in  New  York,  and  I  am  assured,  that  both  actors  and 
managers  prosper  in  their  vocation.  Such  a  circum- 
stance is  not  insignificant.  It  marks  opulence  and 
comfort,  and  proves  that  the  great  body  of  the  people, 
after  providing  the  necessaries  of  life,  possess  a  surplus, 
which  they  feel  at  liberty  to  lavish  on  its  enjoyments. 
I  have  already  been  several  times  to  the  Park  Theatre, 
which  is  decidedly  the  most  fashionable.  The  house 


THEATRES  AND  ACTORS.  35 

is  very  comfortable,  and  well  adapted  both  for  seeing 
and  hearing.  On  my  first  visit,  the  piece  was  Der 
Freischutz,  which  was  very  wretchedly  performed. — 
The  farce  was  new  to  me,  and,  I  imagine,  of  American 
origin.  The  chief  character  is  a  pompous  old  baronet, 
very  proud  of  his  family,  and  exceedingly  tenacious  of 
respect.  In  his  old  age  he  has  the  folly  to  think  of 
marrying,  and  the  still  greater  folly,  to  imagine  the  at- 
tractions of  his  person  and  pedigree  irresistible.  As 
may  be  anticipated,  he  is  the  laughing  stock  of  the 
piece.  Insult  and  ridicule  follow  him  in  every  scene; 
he  is  kicked  and  cuffed  to  the  hearty  content  of  the  au- 
dience, who  return  home  full  of  contempt  for  the 
English  aristocracy,  and  chuckling  at  the  thought  that 
there  are  no  baronets  in  America. 

My  curiosity  was  somewhat  excited  by  the  high  re- 
putation which  an  actor  named  Forrest  has  acquired  in 
this  country.  As  a  tragedian,  in  the  estimate  of  all 
American  critics,  he  stands  primus  sine  secundo.  To 
place  him  on  a  level  with  Kean,  or  Young,  or  Kemble, 
or  Macready,  would  here  be  considered  as  an  unwar- 
ranted derogation  from  his  merits.  He  is  a  Thespian 
without  blemish  and  without  rival. 

I  have  since  seen  this  rara  avis,  and  I  confess  that 
the  praise  so  profusely  lavished  on  him  does  appear  to 
me  somewhat  gratuitous.  He  is  a  coarse  and  vulgar 
actor,  without  grace,  without  dignity,  with  little  flexi- 
bility of  feature,  and  utterly  common-place  in  his  con- 
ceptions of  character.  There  is  certainly  some  energy 
about  him,  but  this  is  sadly  given  to  degenerate  into 
rant.  The  audience,  however,  were  enraptured. 
Every  increase  of  voice  in  the  actor  was  followed  by 
louder  thunders  from  box,  pit,  and  gallery,  till  it  some- 
times became  matter  of  serious  calculation,  how  much 
longer  one's  tympanum  could  stand  the  crash.  I  give 
my  impression  of  this  gentleman's  merits  as  an  actor 
the  more  freely,  because  I  know  he  is  too  firmly  esta- 
blished in  the  high  opinion  of  his  countrymen,  to  be 
susceptible  of  injury  from  the  criticism  of  a  foreigner, 
with  all  his  prejudices,  inherent  and  attributive.  Per- 
haps, indeed,  he  owes  something  of  the  admiration 
which  follows  him  on  the  stage,  to  the  excellence  of 


36  FIRES  IN  NEW  YORK. 

his  character  in  private  life.  Forrest  has  realized  a 
large  fortune;  and  I  hear  from  all  quarters,  that  in  the 
discharge  of  every  moral  and  social  duty,  he  is  highly 
exemplary.  His  literary  talents,  I  am  assured,  are, 
likewise,  respectable. 

My  fellow-passenger,  Master  Burke,  draws  full 
houses  every  night  of  his  performance.  Each  time  I 
have  seen  him,  my  estimate  of  his  powers  has  been 
raised.  In  farce  he  does  admirably;  but  what  must  be 
said  of  the  taste  of  an  audience,  who  can  even  tolerate 
the  mimicry  of  a  child,  in  such  parts  as  Lear,  Shylock. 
Richard,  and  lago? 

No  one  can  be  four-and-twenty  hours  in  New  York 
without  hearing  the  alarm  of  fire.  Indeed,  a  confla- 
gration here  is  so  very  ordinary  an  occurrence,  that  it 
is  attended  by  none  of  that  general  anxiety  and  excite- 
ment which  follow  such  a  calamity  in  cities  less  accus- 
tomed to  combustion.  The  New  York  fireman  are 
celebrated  for  resolution  and  activity;  and  as  the  exer- 
cise of  these  qualities  is  always  pleasant  to  witness,  I 
have  made  it  a  point  to  attend  all  fires  since  my  arrival. 
The  four  first  were  quite  insignificant,  indeed,  three  of 
the  number  were  extinguished  before  my  arrival,  and 
I  barely  got  up  in  time  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  ex- 
piring embers  of  the  fourth.  But  in  regard  to  the  fifth, 
I  was  in  better  luck.  Having  reached  the  scene,  more 
than  half  expecting  it  would  turn  out  as  trumpery  an 
affair  as  its  predecessors,  I  had  at  length  the  satisfaction 
of  beholding  a  very  respectable  volume  of  flame  burst- 
ing from  the  windows  and  roof  of  a  brick  tenement  of 
four  stories,  with  as  large  an  accompaniment  of  smoke, 
bustle,  clamour,  and  confusion  as  could  reasonably  be 
desired.  An  engine  came  up  almost  immediately  after 
my  arrival,  and  loud  cries,  and  the  rattle  of  approach- 
ing wheels  from  either  extremity  of  the  jstreet,  gave 
notice  that  farther  assistance  was  at  hand.  Some  time 
was  lost  in  getting  water,  and  I  should  think  the  muni- 
cipal arrangements,  in  regard  to  this  matter,  might  be 
better  managed.  In  a  few  minutes,  however,  the  diffi- 
culty was  surmounted,  and  the  two  elements  were 
brought  fairly  into  collision. 

The  firemen  are  composed  of  young  citizens,  who 


FIREMEN.  37 

by  volunteering  this  service, — and  a  very  severe  one  it 
is, — enjoy  an  exemption  from  military  duty.  Certainly 
nothing  could  exceed  their  boldness  and  activity.  Lad- 
ders were  soon  planted;  the  walls  were  scaled;  furni- 
ture was  carried  from  the  house,  and  thrown  from  the 
windows,  without  apparent  concern  for  the  effects  its 
descent  might  produce  on  the  skulls  of  the  spectators 
in  the  street.  Fresh  engines  were  continually  coming 
up,  and  were  brought  into  instant  play.  But  as  the 
power  of  water  waxed,  so  unfortunately  did  that  of 
the  adverse  element;  and  so  far  as  the  original  building 
was  concerned,  the  odds  soon  became  Pompey's  pil- 
lar to  a  stick  of  sealing-wax,  on  fire. 

Day  now  closed,  and  the  scene  amid  the  darkness 
became  greatly  increased  in  picturesque  beauty.  At 
intervals  human  figures  were  seen  striding  through 
flame,  and  then  vanishing  amid  the  smoke.  In  the 
street,  confusion  became  worse  confounded.  Had  the 
crowd  been  composed  of  stentors,  the  clamour  could 
not  have  been  louder.  The  inhabitants  of  the  adjoin- 
ing houses,  who,  till  now,  seemed  to  have  taken  the 
matter  very  coolly,  at  length  became  alarmed,  when 
the  engines  began  to  play  on  them,  and  ejected  a  tor- 
rent of  chairs,  wardrobes,  feather-beds,  and  other  valua- 
ble chattels  from  every  available  opening.  The  house 
in  which  the  fire  broke  out  was  now  a  mere  shell ;  the 
roof  gone,  and  all  the  wooden-work  consumed.  The 
flames  then  burst  forth  in  the  roof  of  the  house  adjoining 
on  the  right,  but  the  concentrated  play  of  many  engines 
soon  subdued  it.  All  danger  was  then  at  an  end.  The 
inhabitants  began  to  reclaim  the  furniture  which  they 
had  tumbled  out  into  the  street,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
went  afterwards  to  bed  as  comfortably  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  I  saw  several  of  the  inmates  of  the  house 
that  had  been  burned,  and  examined  their  countenances 
with  some  curiosity.  No  external  mark  of  excitement 
was  visible,  and  I  gave  them  credit  for  a  degree  of  non- 
chalance, far  greater  than  1  should  have  conceived  pos- 
sible in  the  circumstances. 

On  the  whole,  I  have  no  deduction  to  make  from  the 
praises  so  frequently  bestowed  on  the  New  York  fire- 
men. The  chief  defect  that  struck  me,  was  the  admis- 


38  FREQUENCY  OF  FIRES. 

sion  of  the  crowd  to  the  scene  of  action.  This  caused, 
and  must  always  cause,  confusion.  In  England,  barriers 
are  thrown  across  the  street  at  some  distance,  and  rigo- 
rously guarded  by  the  police  and  constables.  On  sug- 
gesting this  improvement  to  an  American  friend,  he 
agreed  it  would  be  desirable,  but  assured  me  it  was  not 
calculated  for  the  meridian  of  the  United  States,  where 
exclusion  of  any  kind  is  always  adverse  to  the  popular 
feeling.  On  this  matter,  of  course,  I  cannot  judge,  but 
it  seems  to  me  clear,  that  if  the  exclusion  of  an  idle 
mob  from  the  scene  of  a  fire,. increases  the  chance  of 
saving  property  and  life,  the  freedom  thus  pertinacious- 
ly insisted  on,  is  merely  that  of  doing  private  injury  and 
public  mischief. 

With  regard  to  the  frequency  of  fires  in  New  York, 
I  confess,  that  after  listening  to  all  possible  explana- 
tions, it  does  appear  to  me  unaccountable.  I  am  con- 
vinced, that  in  this  single  city  there  are  annually  more 
fires  than  occur  in  the  whole  Island  of  Great  Britain. 
The  combustible  materials  of  which  the  majority  of  the 
houses  are  composed,  is  a  circumstance  far  from  suffi- 
cient to  account  for  so  enormous  a  disparity.  Can  we 
attribute  it  to  crime?  I  think  not;  at  least  it  would  re- 
quire much  stronger  evidence  than  has  yet  been  dis- 
covered to  warrant  the  hypothesis.  In  the  negligence 
of  servants,  we  have  surer  ground.  These  are  general- 
ly negroes,  and  rarely  to  be  depended  on  in  any  way, 
when  exempt  from  rigid  surveillance.  But  I  am  not 
going  to  concoct  a  theory,  and  so  leave  the  matter  as  I 
find  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 

NEW  YORK HUDSON  RIVER. 

THE  25th  of  November,  being  the  anniversary  of  the 
evacuation  of  the  city  by  the  British  army,  is  always  a 
grand  gala-day  at  New  York.  To  perpetuate  the  me- 
mory of  this  glorious  event,  there  is  generally  a  parade 


FESTIVAL  AT  NEW  YORK.  39 

of  the  militia,  some  firing  of  cannon  and  small  arms,  a 
procession  of  the  different  trades,  and  the  day  then  ter- 
minates as  it  ought,  in  profuse  and  patriotic  jollification. 
But  on  the  present  occasion  it  was  determined,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  ordinary  cause  of  rejoicing,  to  get  up  a  pa- 
geant of  unusual  splendour,  in  honour  of  the  late  Revo- 
lution in  France.  This  resolution,  I  was  informed,  ori- 
ginated exclusively  in  the  operative  class,  or  workies,  as 
they  call  themselves,  in  contradistinction  to  those  who 
live  in  better  houses,  eat  better  dinners,  read  novels 
and  poetry,  and  drink  old  Madeira  instead  of  Yankee 
rum.  The  latter  and  more  enviable  class,  however, 
having  been  taught  caution  by  the  results  of  the  former 
French  Revolution,  were  generally  disposed  to  consider 
the  present  congratulatory  celebration  as  somewhat  pre- 
mature, but  finding  it  could  not  be  prevented,  prudently 
gave  in,  and  determined  to  take  part  in  the  pageant. 

It  was  arranged,  that  should  the  weather  prove  un- 
favourable on  the  25th,  the  gala  should  be  deferred  till 
the  day  following.  Nor  was  this  precaution  unwise. 
The  morning  of  the  appointed  day  was  as  unpropitious 
as  the  prayers'of  the  most  pious  advocate  of  legitimacy 
could  have  wished.  The  rain  came  down  in  torrents, 
the  streets  were  flooded  ankle  deep,  and  I  could  not 
help  feeling  strong  compassion  for  a  party  of  militia, 
with  a  band  of  music,  who  with  doleful  aspect,  and 
drenched  to  the  skin,  paraded  past  the  hotel,  to  the 
tune  of  Yankee  Doodle.  But  the  morning  following 
was  of  better  promise :  the  rain  had  ceased,  and  though 
cokl  and  cloudy,  it  was  calm. 

About  ten  o'clock,  therefore,  I  betook  myself  to  a 
house  in  Broadway,  to  which  I  had  been  obligingly 
invited  to  see  the  procession.  During  my  progress, 
every  thing  gave  note  of  preparation.  The  shops  were 
closed,  and  men  in  military  garb,  and  others  decorated 
with  scarfs  and  ribands,  were  seen  moving  hastily  along 
to  their  appointed  stations.  On  approaching  the  route 
of  the  procession,  the  crowd  became  more  dense,  and 
the  steps  in  front  of  the  houses  were  so  completely 
jammed  up  with  human  beings,  that  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty I  reached  the  door  of  that  to  which  I  was  in- 
vited. 


40  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  PROCESSION. 

Having  at  length,  however,  effected  an  entrance,  I 
enjoyed  the  honour  of  introduction  to  a  large  and  very 
pleasant  party  assembled  with  the  same  object,  as  my- 
self, so  that,  though  a  considerable  time  elapsed  before 
the  appearance  of  the  pageant,  I  felt  no  inclination  to 
complain  of  the  delay.  At  length,  however,  the  sound 
of  distant  music  reached  the  ear;  the  thunder  of  drums, 
the  contralto  of  the  fife,  the  loud  clash  of  cymbals,  and 
first  and  farthest  heard,  the  spirit-stirring  notes  of  the 
trumpet. 

Iwuv  ft   aatuvsJiev  tt.f*@i  HTVTTO;  cuatsra.  Baxxtt. 

On  they  came,  a  glorious  cavalcade,  making  heaven 
vocal  with  sound  of  triumph,  and  earth  beautiful  with 
such  colouring  as  nature  never  scattered  from  her  pic- 
tured urn. 

And  first  appeared,  gorgeously  caparisoned,  a  gallant 
steed  bestrode  by  a  cavalier,  whose  high  and  martial 
bearing  bespoke  him  the  hero  of  a  hundred  fights.  The 
name  of  this  chieftain  1  was  not  fortunate  enough  to 
learn.  Next  passed  a  body  of  militia,  who,  if  they 
wished  to  appear  as  unlike  soldiers  as  possible,  were 
assuredly  most  successful.  Then  came  the  trades. 
Butchers  on  horseback,  or  drawn  in  a  sort  of  rustic  ar- 
bour or  shambles,  tastefully  festooned  with  sausages.  Tai- 
lors, with  cockades  and  breast-knots  of  riband,  pacing 
to  music,  with  banners  representative  of  various  gar- 
ments, waving  proudly  in  the  wind.  Blacksmiths,  with 
forge  and  bellows.  Caravans  of  cobblers  most  seducing- 
ly  appareled,  and  working  at  their  trade  on  a  locomo- 
tive platform,  which  displayed  their  persons  to  the  best 
advantage.  And  carpenters  too, — but  the  rest  must  be 
left  to  the  imagination  of  the  reader;  and  if  he  throw 
in  a  few  bodies  of  militia,  a  few  bands  of  music,  and  a 
good  many  most  outre  and  unmilitary  looking  officers, 
appareled  in  uniforms  apparently  of  the  last  century, 
he  will  form  a  very  tolerable  idea  of  the  spectacle. 

I  must  not,  however,  omit  to  notice  the  fire  engines, 
which  formed  a  very  prominent  part  of  the  procession, 
it  fortunately  happening  that  no  houses  were  just  at 
that  moment  in  conflagration.  These  engines  were  re- 


THE  ORATION.  4| 

markably  clean  and  in  high  order,  and  being  adorned 
with  a  good  deal  of  taste,  attracted  a  large  share  of  ad- 
miration. Altogether,  it  really  did  seem  as  if  this  gor* 
geous  pageant  were  interminable,  and,  like  a  dinner 
in  which  there  is  too  large  a  succession  of  courses,  it 
was  impossible  to  do  equal  justice  to  all  its  attractions, 
In  the  latter  case,  the  fervour  with  which  we  demon- 
strate our  admiration  of  one  dish,  forces  us  to  disregard 
the  charms  of  another.  If  we  are  not  unjust  to  veni- 
son, we  must  subsequently  slight  partridge,  and  then 
from  a  whole  wilderness  of  sweets,  our  waning  appetite 
demands  that  we  should  select  but  one.  And  thus  it 
was,  that  I,  fervent  in  my  admiration  of  the  butchers, 
was,  in  due  course,  charmed  with  the  carpenters,  and 
subsequently  smitten  with  the  singular  splendour  of  the 
saddlers  But  another  and  another  still  succeeded,  till 
the  eye  and  tongue  of  the  spectator  became  literally 
bankrupt  in  applause.  Est  modus  et  dulci;  in  short, 
there  was  too  much  of  it,  and  one  could  not  help  feel- 
ing, after  three  hours  spent  in  gazing,  how  practicable 
it  was  to  become  satiated  with  pomp,  as  well  as  with 
other  good  things. 

But  tedious  as  the  spectacle  was,  it  did  at  length  pass, 
and  I  walked  on  to  Washington  Square,  in  which  the 
ceremonies  of  the  day  were  to  conclude  with  the  deli- 
very of  a  public  oration.  On  arriving,  I  found  that  a 
large  stage,  or  hustings,  had  been  erected  in  the  square. 
From  the  centre  of  this  stage  rose  another  smaller  plat- 
form, for  the  accommodation  of  the  high  functionaries 
of  the  state  and  city.  As  even  the  advanced  guard  of 
the  procession  had  not  yet  given  signal  of  its  approach, 
it  was  evident  that  some  delay  must  occur,  and  I  there- 
fore accepted  an  invitation  to  one  of  the  houses  in  the 
square,  where  I  found  a  very  brilliant  concourse  of 
naval  and  military  officers,  and  other  persons  of  distinc- 
tion. Among  these  was  the  venerable  Ex-President 
Monroe.  It  was,  of  course,  not  without  interest  that  I 
gazed  on  an  individual  who  had  played  so  distinguished 
a  part  during  the  most  perilous  epoch  of  American  his- 
tory. He  was  evidently  bent  down  by  the  united  in- 
roads of  age  and  infirmity;  and  it  was  with  regret  I 
learned,  that  to  those  afflictions,  which  are  the  common 

6 


42  EX-PRESIDENT  MONROE. 

lot  of  humanity,  had  been  added  those  of  poverty.  The 
expression  of  Mr.  Monroe's  countenance  was  mild, 
though  not,  I  thought,  highly  intellectual.  His  fore- 
head was  not  prominent,  yet  capacious  and  well  defined. 
His  eye  was  lustreless,  and  his  whole  frame  emaciated 
and  feeble.  It  was  gratifying  to  witness  the  respect' 
paid  to  this  aged  statesman  by  all  who  approached 
him;  and  I  was  delighted  to  hear  the  loud  demonstra- 
tions of  reverence  and  honour,  with  which  his  appear- 
ance in  the  street  was  hailed  by  the  crowd. 

Mr.  Monroe  being  too  feeble  to  walk  even  so  short  a 
distance,  was  conveyed  to  the  hustings  in  an  open  car- 
riage. His  equipage  was  followed  by  a  cortege  of  func- 
tionaries on  foot ;  and  accompanying  these  gentlemen, 
I  was  admitted  without  difficulty  to  the  lower  platform, 
which  contained  accommodation  for  about  a  hundred. 
Having  arrived  there,  we  had  still  to  wait  some  time 
for  the  commencement  of  the  performance,  during 
which  some  vociferous  manifestations  of  disapprobation 
were  made  by  the  mob,  who  were  prevented  from  ap- 
proaching the  hustings  by  an  armed  force  of  militia. 
At  length,  however,  a  portly  gentleman  came  forward, 
and  read  aloud  the  address  to  the  French  inhabitants 
of  New  York,  which  had  been  passed  at-a  public  meet- 
ing. In  particular,  I  observed  that  his  countenance 
and  gestures  were  directed  towards  a  party  of  gentle- 
men of  that  nation,  who  occupied  a  conspicuous  station 
on  the  stage  beneath  him.  The  document  'was  too 
wordy  and  prolix,  and  written  in  a  style  of  ambitious 
elaboration,  which  I  could  not  help  considering  as  some- 
what puerile. 

While  all  this  was  going  forward  on  the  hustings,  the 
crowd  without  were  becoming  every  instant  more  vio- 
lent and  clamorous ;  and  a  couple  of  boys  were  oppor- 
tunely discovered  beneath  the  higher  scaffolding,  en- 
gaged, either  from  malice  or  fun,  in  knocking  away  its 
supports,  altogether  unembarrassed  by  the  considera- 
tion, that  had  their  efforts  been  successful,  they  must 
themselves  have  been  inevitably  crushed  in  the  fall  of 
the  platform. 

Notwithstanding  these  desagremens,  the  orator — a 
gentleman  named  Governor — came  forward  with  a  long 


THE  MOB  KNOCK  DOWN  THE  HUSTINGS.          43 

written  paper,  which  he  commenced  reading  in  a  voice 
scarcely  audible  on  the  hustings,  and  which  certainly 
could  not  be  heard  beyond  its  limits.  The  crowd,  in 
consequence,  became  still  more  obstreperous.  Having, 
no  doubt,  formed  high  anticipations  of  pleasure  and  in- 
struction from  the  gifted  inspiration  of  this  gentleman's 
eloquence,  it  was  certainly  provoking  to  discover,  that 
not  one  morsel  of  it  were  they  destined  to  enjoy.  The 
orator  was,  in  consequence,  addressed  in  ejaculations  by 
no  means  complimentary,  and  such  cries  as — "  Raise 
your  voice,  and  be  damned  to  you !"  "  Louder!" — 
"  Speak  out  !'* — "  We  don't  hear  a  word !"  were  accom- 
panied by  curses,  which  I  trust  were  not  deep,  in  pro- 
portion either  to  their  loudness  or  their  number.  In  vain 
did  Mr.  Governor  strain  his  throat,  in  compliance  with 
this  unreasonable  requisition,  but  Nature  had  not  formed 
him  either  a  Hunt  or  an  O'Connell,  and  the  ill-humour 
of  the  multitude  was  not  diminished. 

At  length  order  seemed  at  an  end.  A  number  of  the 
mob  broke  through  the  barricade  of  soldiers,  and,  climb- 
ing up  the  hustings,  increased  the  party  there  in  a  most 
unpleasant  degree.  But  this  was  not  all.  The  dissa- 
tisfied crowd  below,  thought  proper  to  knock  away  the 
supports  of  the  scaffolding,  and  just  as  Mr.  Governor 
was  pronouncing  a  most  emphatic  period  about  the  sla- 
very of  Ireland,  down  one  side  of  it  came  with  an 
alarming  crash.  Fortunately,  some  gentlemen  had  the 
good  sense  to  exhort  every  one  to  remain  unmoved ;  and 
from  a  prudent  compliance  with  this  precaution,  I  be- 
lieve little  injury  was  sustained  by  any  of  the  party.  For 
myself,  however,  being  already  somewhat  tired  of  the 
scene,  the  panic  had  no  sooner  ceased,  than  I  took  my 
departure. 

Altogether  I  must  say  that  the  multitude  out  of  ear- 
shot had  no  great  loss.  The  oration  appeared  a  mere 
trumpery  tissue  of  florid  claptrap,  which  somewhat 
lowered  my  opinion  with  regard  to  the  general  standard 
of  taste  and  intelligence  in  the  American  people.  On 
the  whole,  the  affair  was  a  decided  failure.  What 
others  went  to  see  I  know  not,  but  had  I  not  anticipated 
something  better  worth  looking  at,  than  a  cavalcade  of 
artisans  mounted  on  cart-horses,  and  dressed  out  in  taw- 


44  THE  AFFAIR  A  FAILURE. 

dry  finery,  or  the  burlesque  of  military  display  by  bo- 
dies of  undrilled  militia,  I  should  probably  have  staid  at 
home.  I  do  not  say  this  in  allusion  to  any  deficiency  of 
splendour  in  the  pageant  itself.  A  republic  can  pos- 
sess but  few  materials  for  display,  and  in  the  present 
case  I  should  not  have  felt  otherwise,  had  the  procession 
been  graced  by  all  the  dazzling  appendages  of  imperial 
grandeur.  In  truth,  I  had  calculated  on  a  sight  alto- 
gether different.  I  expected  to  see  a  vast  multitude, 
animated  by  one  pervading  feeling  of  generous  enthu- 
siasm ;  to  hear  the  air  rent  by  the  triumphant  shouts  of 
tens  of  thousands  of  freemen,  hailing  the  bloodless  dawn 
of  liberty,  in  a  mighty  member  of  the  brotherhood  of 
nations.  As  it  was,  I  witnessed  nothing  so  sublime. 
Throughout  the  day,  there  was  not  the  smallest  demon- 
stration of  enthusiasm  on  the  part  of  the  vast  concourse 
of  spectators.  There  was  no  cheering,  no  excitement, 
no  general  expression  of  feeling  of  any  sort;  and  I  be- 
lieve the  crowd  thought  just  as  much  of  France  as  of 
Morocco,— the  Cham  of  Tartary,  as  of  Louis  Philippe, 
King  of  the  French.  They  looked  and  laughed  indeed 
at  the  novel  sight  of  their  fellow  tradesmen  and  ap- 
prentices, tricked  out  in  ribands  and  white  stockings, 
and  pacing,  with  painted  banners,  to  the  sound  of  music. 
But  the  moral  of  the  display,  if  I  may  so  speak,  was  ut- 
terly overlooked.  The  people  seemed  to  gaze  on  the 
scene  before  them  with  the  same  feeling  as  Peter  Bell 
did  on  a  primrose ;  and  it  was  evident  enough,  if,  with- 
out irreverence,  I  may  be  permitted  to  parody  the  fine 
words  of  the  noblest  of  contemporary  poets, — that  in 
the  unexcited  imagination  of  each  spectator, 

A  butcher  on  his  steed  so  trim, 
A  mounted  butcher  was  to  him, 
And  he  was  nothing  more. 

Such  was  the  source  of  my  disappointment  in  regard 
to  this  splendid  festivity.  How  far  it  was  reasonable, 
others  may  decide.  I  can  only  say  I  felt  it. 

One  of  the  most  pleasant  evenings  I  have  passed 
since  my  arrival,  was  at  a  club  composed  of  gentlemen 
of  literary  taste,  which  includes  among  its  members, 
several  of  the  most  eminent  individuals  of  the  Union. 
The  meetings  are  weekly,  and  take  place  at  the  house 


MR.  GALLATIN.  45 

of  each  member  in  succession.  The  party  generally 
assembles  about  eight  o'clock ;  an  hour  or  two  is  spent 
in  conversation;  supper  follows;  and  after  a  moderate, 
though  social  potation,  the  meeting  breaks  up.  I  had 
here  the  honour  of  being  introduced  to  Mr.  Livingston, 
lieutenant-governor  of  the  State,  Mr.  Gallatin,  Mr.  Jay, 
and  several  other  gentlemen  of  high  accomplishment. 

Mr.  Gallatin  I  regarded  with  peculiar  interest.  His 
name  was  one  with  which  I  had  been  long  familiar. 
Born  in  Switzerland,  he  became  a  citizen  of  the  United 
States,  soon  after  the  Revolution,  and  found  there  a 
field,  in  which  it  was  not  probable  that  talents  like  his 
would  remain  long  without  high  and  profitable  employ- 
ment. I  believe  it  was  in  the  cabinet  of  Mr.  Jefferson 
that  Mr.  Gallatin  commenced  his  career  as  a  statesman. 
Since  then,  much  of  his  life  has  been  passed  either  in 
high  offices  at  home,  or  as  minister  to  some  of  the  Eu- 
ropean courts;  and  the  circumstance  of  his  foreign  birth 
rendering  him  ineligible  to  the  office  of  president,  this 
veteran  statesman  and  diplomatist,  wisely  judging  that 
there  should  be  "some  space  between  the  cabinet  and 
grave,"  has  retired  from  political  life,  and  finds  exer- 
cise for  his  yet  unbroken  energies  in  the  calmer  pur- 
suits of  literature. 

In  his  youth  Mr.  Gallatin  must  have  been  handsome. 
His  countenance  is  expressive  of  great  sagacity.  He  is 
evidently  an  acute  thinker,  and  his  conversation  soon 
discovered  him  to  be  a  ruthless  exposer  of  those  tradU 
tionary  or  geographical  sophisms,  in  politics  and  re- 
ligion, by  which  the  mind  of  whole  nations  has  been 
frequently  obscured,  and  from  the  influence  of  which 
none,  perhaps,  are  entirely  exempt.  Mr.  Gallatin 
speaks  our  language  with  a  slight  infusion  of  his  na- 
tive accent,  but  few  have  greater  command  of  felicitous 
expression,  or  write  it  with  greater  purity. 

An  evening  passed  in  such  company,  could  not  be 
other  than  delightful.  There  was  no  monopoly  of  con- 
versation, but  its  current  flowed  on  equably  and  agree- 
ably. Subjects  of  literature  and  politics  were  discussed 
with  an  entire  absence  of  that  bigotry  and  dogmatism, 
which  sometimes  destroy  the  pleasure  of  interchange 
,of  opinion,  even  between  minds  of  high  order.  For 


46  VOYAGE  UP  THE  HUDSON. 

myself,  I  was  glad  to  enjoy  an  opportunity  of  observing 
the  modes  of  thinking  peculiar  to  intellects  of  the  first 
class,  in  this  new  and  interesting  country;  and  I  looked 
forward  to  nothing  with  more  pleasure,  than  availing 
myself  of  the  obliging  invitation  to  repeat  my  visits  at 
the  future  meetings  of  the  Club. 

Having  already  passed  a  fortnight  in  one  unbroken 
chain  of  engagements  in  this  most  hospitable  city,  I 
determined  to  give  variety  to  the  tissue  of  my  life,  by 
accepting  the  very  kind  and  pressing  invitation  of  Dr. 
Hosack,  to  visit  him  at  his  country-seat  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hudson.  The  various  works  of  this  gentleman 
have  rendered  his  name  well  known  in  Europe,  and 
procured  his  admission  to  the  most  eminent  Philoso- 
phical Institutions  in  England,  France,  and  Germany. 
For  many  years,  he  enjoyed  as  a  physician  the  first 
practice  in  New  York,  and  has  recently  retired  from 
the  toilsome  labours  of  his  profession,  with  the  reputa- 
tion of  great  wealth,  and  the  warm  esteem  of  his  fel- 
low-citizens. 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  therefore,  of  a  day 
which  promised  to  turn  out  more  than  usually  raw 
and  disagreeable,  I  embarked  in  the  steam-boat  North 
America,  and  proceeded  up  the  river  to  Hyde  Park, 
about  eighty  miles  distant.  I  had  anticipated  much  en-, 
joyment  from  the  beautiful  scenery  on  the  Hudson, 
but  the  elements  were  adverse.  We  had  scarcely  left 
the  quay,  when  the  lowering  clouds  began  to  discharge 
their  contents  in  the  form  of  snow;  and  the  wind  was 
so  piercingly  cold,  that  I  found  it  impossible,  even  with 
all  appliances  of  cloaks  and  great-coats,  to  remain  long 
on  deck.  Every  now  and  then,  however,  I  reascend- 
ed  from  below  to  see  as  much  as  I  could;  and  when 
nearly  half  frozen,  returned  to  enjoy  the  scarcely  less 
interesting  prospect  of  the  cabin  stove. 

Of  course,  it  was  impossible,  under  such  circum- 
stances, to  form  any  just  estimate  of  scenery;  but  still 
the  fine  objects  which  appeared  occasionally  glimmer- 
ing through  the  mist,  were  enough  to  convince  me, 
that,  seen  under  more  favourable  auspices,  my  expec" 
tations,  highly  as  they  had  been  excited,  were  not  like- 
ly to  encounter  disappointment.  That  portion  of  the 


THE  SCENERY  OF  THE  HUDSON.  47 

scenery,  in  particular,  distinguished  by  the  name  of 
the  Highlands,  struck  me,  as  combining  the  elements 
of  the  grand  and  beautiful,  in  a  very  eminent  de- 
gree. I  remember  nothing  on  the  Rhine  at  all  equal 
to  it.  The  river  at  this  place  has  found  a  passage 
through  two  ranges  of  mountains,  evidently  separated 
by  some  convulsion  of  nature,  and  which,  in  beauty  and 
variety  of  form,  and  grandeur  of  effect,  can  scarcely  be 
exceeded. 

But  the  vessel  in  which  this  little  voyage  was  per- 
formed demands  some  notice,  even  amid  scenery  fine 
as  that  along  which  it  conducted  us  with  astonishing 
rapidity.  Its  dimensions  seemed  gigantic.  Being  in- 
tended solely  for  river  navigation,  the  keel  is  nearly 
flat,  and  the  upper  portion  of  the  vessel  is  made  to  pro- 
ject beyond  the  hull  to  a  very  considerable  distance  on 
either  side.  When  standing  at  the  stern,  and  looking 
forward,  the  extent  of  accommodation  appears  enor- 
mous, though  certainly  not  more  than  is  required  for 
the  immense  number  of  passengers  who  travel  daily 
between  New  York  and  Albany.  Among  other  un- 
usual accommodations  on  deck,  I  was  rather  surprised 
at  observing  a  barber's  shop,  in  which, — judging  from 
the  state  of  the  visages  of  my  fellow-passengers, — I 
have  no  doubt  that  a  very  lucrative  trade  is  carried  on. 

The  accommodation  below  was  scarcely  less  worthy 
of  note.  It  consisted  of  two  cabins,  which  I  guessed, 
by  pacing  them,  to  be  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length. 
The  sternmost  of  these  spacious  apartments  is  sumptu- 
ously fitted  up  with  abundance  of  mirrors,  ottomans, 
and  other  appurtenances  of  luxury.  The  other,  almost 
equally  large,  was  very  inferior  in  point  of  decoration. 
It  seemed  intended  for  a  sort  of  tippling-shop,  and  con- 
tained a  bar,  where  liquors  of  all  kinds,  from  Cham- 
pagne to  small  beer,  were  dispensed  to  such  passengers 
as  have  inclination  to  swallow,  and  money  to  pay  for 
them.  The  sides  of  both  of  these  cabins  were  lined 
with  a  triple  row  of  sleeping-berths;  and  as  the  sofas 
and  benches  were  likewise  convertible  to  a  similar  pur- 
pose, I  was  assured,  accommodation  could  be  easily 
furnished  for  about  five  hundred. 

The  scene  at  breakfast  was  a  curiosity.     I  calculated 


48  BREAKFAST  IN  THE  STEAM-BOAT. 

the  number  of  masticators  at  about  three  hundred,  yet 
there  was  no  confusion,  and  certainly  no  scarcity  of 
provision.  The  waiters  were  very  numerous,  and 
during  the  whole  entertainment  kept  skipping  about 
with  the  most  praiseworthy  activity;  some  collecting 
money,  and  others  engaged  in  the  translation  of  cutlets 
and  coffee.  The  proceedings  of  the  party  in  re  break- 
fast, were  no  less  brief  and  compendious  afloat,  than 
I  had  observed  them  on  shore.  As  for  eating,  there 
was  nothing  like  it  discoverable  on  board  the  North 
America.  Each  man  seemed  to  devour,  under  the  un- 
controllable impulse  of  some  sudden  hurricane  of  ap- 
petite, to  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  any  paral- 
lel beyond  the  limits  of  the  Zoological  Gardens.  A 
few  minutes  did  the  business.  The  clatter  of  knives 
and  voices,  vociferous  at  first,  speedily  waxed  faint 
and  fainter;  plates,  dishes,  cups,  and  saucers  disap- 
peared as  if  by  magic;  and  every  thing  connected  with 
the  meal  became  so  suddenly  invisible,  that,  but  for 
internal  evidence,  which  the  hardiest  skeptic  could 
scarcely  have  ventured  to  discredit,  the  breakfast  in 
the  North  America  might  have  passed  for  one  of  those 
gorgeous,  but  unreal  visions,  which,  for  a  moment, 
mock  the  eye  of  the  dreamer,  and  then  vanish  into 
thin  air. 

The  steamer  made  several  brief  stoppages  at  villages 
on  the  river,  for  the  reception  and  discharge  of  goods 
or  passengers.  From  the  large  warehouses  which  these 
generally  contained,  they  were  evidently  places  of 
considerable  deposite  for  the  agricultural  produce  of 
the  neighbouring  country.  They  were  built  exclusive- 
ly of  wood,  painted  of  a  white  colour;  and,  certainly, 
for  their  population,  boasted  an  unusual  number  of  ta- 
verns, which  gave  notice  of  their  hospitality,  on  sign- 
boards of  gigantic  dimensions.  The  business  to  be 
transacted  at  these  places  occasioned  but  little  loss  of 
time.  Every  arrangement  had  evidently  been  made 
to  facilitate  despatch;  and,  by  two  o'clock,  I  found  my- 
self fairly  ashore  at  Hyde  Park;  and  glad  to  seek  shel- 
ter in  the  landing-house  from  the  deluge  of  snow,  which 
had  already  whitened  the  whole  surface  of  the  country. 

I  had  just  begun  to  question  the  landlord  about  the 


VISIT  TO  DR.  HOSACK.  49 

possibility  of  procuring  a  conveyance  to  the  place  of 
my  destination,  when  Dr.  Hosack  himself  appeared, 
having  obligingly  brought  his  carriage  for  my  convey- 
ance. Though  the  drive  from  the  landing-place  led 
through  a  prettily  variegated  country,  I  was  not  much 
in  the  humour  to  admire  scenery,  and  looked,  I  fear, 
with  more  indifference  on  the  improvements  past  and 
projected,  to  which  the  Doctor  directed  my  attention, 
than  would  have  been  consistent  with  politeness  in  a 
warmer  and  more  comfortable  auditor.  The  distance, 
however,  was  little  more  than  a  mile;  and,  on  reach- 
ing the  house,  the  disagreeables  of  the  journey  were 
speedily  forgotten  in  the  society  of  its  amiable  inmates, 
and  the  enjoyment  of  every  convenience  which  wealth 
and  hospitality  could  supply.  Dr.  Hosack  had  re- 
ceived his  professional  education  in  Scotland,  and 
passed  a  considerable  portion  of  his  early  life  there.  I 
was  fortunately  enabled  to  afford  him  some  information 
relative  to  the  companions  of  his  early  studies,  many 
of  whom  have  since  risen  to  eminence;  while  others, 
perhaps  not  less  meritorious,  have  lived  and  died  un- 
distinguished. 'In  return,  the  Doctor  was  good  enough 
to  favour  me,  by  communicating  much  valuable  know- 
ledge on  the  state  of  science  and  the  arts  in  the  United 
States,  which  I  must  have  found  great  difficulty  in  ob- 
taining from  other  sources. 

There  is  this  advantage  in  the  pursuit  of  science, 
that  it  tends  to  generate  liberality  of  sentiment,  and 
destroy  those  prejudices  which  divide  nations  far  more 
effectually  than  any  barrier  of  nature.  Science  is  of 
no  country,  and  its  followers,  wherever  boi'n,  consti- 
tute a  wide  and  diffusive  community,  and  are  linked 
together  by  ties  of  brotherhood  and  interest,  which 
political  hostility  cannot  sever.  These  observations 
were  particularly  suggested  by  my  intercourse  with 
Dr.  Hosack.  Though  our  conversation  was  excursive, 
and  embraced  a  vast  variety  of  topics  fairly  debateable 
between  an  American  and  an  Englishman,  1  could 
really  detect  nothing  of  national  prejudice  in  his  opi- 
nions. He  uniformly  spoke  of  the  great  names  of 
Europe  with  admiration  and  respect,  and  his  allusions 
to  the  achievements  of  his  countrymen  in  arts,  arms, 

7 


50  DEMESNE  OF  DR.  HOSACK. 

science,  or  philosophy  betrayed  nothing  of  that  vanity 
and  exaggeration,  with  which,  since  my  arrival,  I  had 
already  become  somewhat  familiar. 

The  following  morning  was  bright  and  beautiful. 
The  snow,  except  in  places  where  the  wind  had  drifted 
it  into  wreaths,  had  entirely  disappeared;  and  after 
breakfast,  I  was  glad  to  accept  the  invitation  of  my 
worthy  host,  to  examine  his  demesne,  which  was  real- 
ly Very  beautiful  and  extensive.  Nothing  could  be 
finer  than  the  situation  of  the  house.  It  stands  upon 
a  lofty  terrace,  overhanging  the  Hudson,  whose  noble 
stream  lends  richness  and  grandeur  to  the  whole  ex- 
tent of  the  foreground  of  the  landscape.  Above,  its 
waters  are  seen  to  approach  from  a  country  finely  va- 
riegated, but  unmarked  by  any  peculiar  boldness  of 
feature.  Below,  it  is  lost  among  a  range  of  rocky  and 
wooded  eminences  of  highly  picturesque  outline.  In 
one  direction  alone,  however,  is  the  prospect  very  ex- 
tensive, and  in  that,  (the  southwest,)  the  Catskill  Moun- 
tains, sending  their  bald  and  rugged  summits  far  up  into 
the  sky,  form  a  glorious  framework  for  the  picture. 

We  drove  through  a  finely-undulating  country,  in 
which  the  glories  of  the  ancient  forest  have  been  re- 
placed by  bare  fields,  intersected  by  hideous  zigzag 
fences.  God  meant  it  to  be  beautiful,  when  he  gave 
such  noble  varieties  of  hill  and  plain,  wood  and  water; 
but  man  seemed  determined  it  should  be  otherwise. — 
No  beauty  which  the  axe  could  remove  was  suffered 
to  remain;  and  wherever  the  tide  of  population  reached, 
the  havoc  had  been  indiscriminate  and  unsparing. 

Yet,  of  this,  it  were  not  only  useless,  but  ridiculous 
to  complain.  Such  changes  are  not  optional,  but  im- 
perative. The  progress  of  population  necessarily  in- 
volves them,  and  they  must  be  regarded  only  as  the 
process  by  which  the  wilderness  is  brought  to  minister 
to  the  wants  and  enjoyments  of  civilized  man.  The 
time  at  length  comes,  when  another  and  a  higher  beau- 
ty replaces  that  which  has  been  destroyed.  It  is  only 
the  state  of  transition  which  it  is  unpleasant  to  behold; 
the  particular  stage  of  advancement  in  which  the  wild 
grandeur  of  nature  has  disappeared,  and  the  charm  of 
cultivation  has  not  yet  replaced  it. 


FARMING  IN  AMERICA.  51 

Dr.  Hosack  was  a  farmer,  and  took  great  interest  in 
the  laudable,  but  expensive  amusement  of  improving 
his  estate.  He  had  imported  sheep  and  cattle  from 
England,  of  the  most  improved  breeds,  and  in  this  re- 
spect promised  to  be  a  benefactor  to  his  neighbourhood. 
I  am  not  much  of  a  farmer,  and  found  the  Doctor  sa- 
gacious about  long  horns  and  short  legs,  in  a  degree 
which  impressed  me  with  a  due  consciousness  of  my  ig- 
norance. The  farm  offices  were  extensive  and  well 
arranged,  and  contained  some  excellent  horses.  A  pair 
of  powerful  carriage-horses,  in  particular,  attracted  my 
admiration.  In  this  country  these  fine  animals  cost 
only  two  hundred  dollars.  In  London,  I  am  sure,  that 
under  Tattersall's  hammer,  they  would  not  fetch  less 
than  three  hundred  guineas. 

But  America  is  not  the  place  for  a  gentleman  farmer. 
The  price  of  labour  is  high,  and  besides,  it  cannot  al- 
ways be  commanded  at  any  price.  The  condition  of 
society  is  not  yet  ripe  for  farming  on  a  great  scale. 
There  will  probably  be  no  American  Mr.  Coke  for 
some  centuries  to  come.  The  Transatlantic  Sir  John 
Sinclairs  are  yet  in  ovo,  and  a  long  period  of  incubation 
must  intervene,  before  we  can  expect  them  to  crack 
the  shell.  As  things  at  present  stand,  small  farmers 
could  beat  the  great  ones  out  of  the  field.  What  a 
man  produces  by  his  own  labour,  and  that  of  his  fami- 
ly, he  produces  cheaply.  What  he  is  compelled  to  hire 
others  to  perform,  is  done  expensively.  It  is  always 
the  interest  of  the  latter  to  get  as  much,  and  give  as 
little  labour  in  exchange  for  it  as  they  can.  Then 
arises  the  necessity  of  bailiffs  and  overseers,  fresh 
mouths  to  be  fed  and  pockets  to  be  filled,  and  the  owner 
may  consider  himself  fortunate  if  these  are  content  with 
devouring  the  profits,  without  swallowing  the  estate 
into  the  bargain. 

Having  passed  two  very  pleasant  days  with  my  kind 
and  hospitable  friends,  I  again  took  steam  on  my  return 
to  New  York.  Dr.  Hosack  was  good  enough  to  accom- 
pany me  on  board,  and  introduce  me  to  a  family  of  the 
neighbourhood,  who  were  returning  from  their  summer 
residence  to  pass  the  winter  in  the  city.  In  its  mem- 
bers, was  included  one  of  the  most  intelligent  and  ac- 


52  SEMINARY  OF  EDUCATION. 

complished  ladies  I  have  ever  met  in  any  country. — 
The  voyage,  therefore,  did  not  appear  tedious,  though 
the  greater  part  of  it  was  performed  in  the  dark. 
About  ten  o'clock  the  steam-boat  was  alongside  of  the 
quay,  and  I  speedily  found  myself  installed  in  my  old 
quarters  in  Bunker's  hotel. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

NEW   YORK. 

PROFESSOR  GRJSCOMB,  a  member  of  the  Society  of 
Friends,  was  obliging  enough  to  conduct  me  over  a 
large  seminary  placed  under  his  immediate  superinten- 
dence. The  general  plan  of  education  is  one  with 
which,  in  Scotland  at  least,  we  are  familiar,  and  I  did 
not  remark  that  any  material  improvement  had  fol- 
lowed its  adoption  in  the  United  States.  To  divide 
boys  into  large  classes  of  fifty  or  a  hundred,  in  which, 
of  course,  the  rate  of  advancement  of  the  slowest  boy 
must  regulate  that  of  the  cleverest  and  most  assiduous, 
does  not,  I  confess,  appear  a  system  founded  on  very 
sound  or  rational  principles.  On  this  plan  of  retarda- 
tion, it  is,  of  course,  necessary  to  discover  some  employ- 
ment for  the  boys,  whose  talents  enable  them  to  out- 
strip their  fellows;  and  this  is  done  by  appointing  them 
to  the  office  of  monitor,  or  teacher,  of  a  subdivision  of 
the  class.  This  mode  of  communicating  knowledge 
has  its  advantages  and  its  faults.  It  is  no  doubt  bene- 
ficial to  the  great  body  of  the  class,  who  are  instructed 
with  greater  facility,  and  less  labour  to  the  master. 
But  the  monitors  are  little  better  than  scape-goats, 
who,  with  some  injustice,  are  made  to  pay  the  whole 
penalty  of  the  comparative  dulnessof  their  companions. 
The  system,  however,  I  have  been  assured,  both  in  this 
country  and  in  England,  is  found  to  work  well,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  it  does  so  in  respect  to  the  average 
amount  of  instruction  imparted  to  the  pupils.  But  the 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE.  53 

principle  of  sacrificing  the  clever  few,  for  the  advance- 
ment of  the  stupid  many,  is  one,  I  still  humbly  conceive, 
to  be  liable  to  strong  objections.  Of  establishments  on 
this  principle,  I  have  seen  none  more  successful  than 
that  of  Professor  Griscomb.  Every  thing  which  zeal 
and  talent  on  the  part  of  the  master  could  effect,  had 
obviously  been  done;  and  on  the  part  of  the  scholars, 
there  was  assuredly  no  want  of  proficiency  in  any 
branch  of  knowledge  adapted  to  their  age  and  capa- 
city. 

A  striking  difference  exists  between  the  system  of 
rewards  and  punishments  adopted  in  the  schools  of  the 
United  States,  and  in  those  of  England.  In  the  former, 
neither  personal  infliction,  nor  forcible  coercion  of  any 
kind,  is  permitted.  How  far  such  a  system  is  likely  to 
prove  successful,  I  cannot  yet  form  an  opinion,  but 
judging  solely  from  the  seminary  under  Dr.  Griscomb, 
I  sHbuld  be  inclined  to  augur  favourably  of  its  results. 
It  has  always,  however,  appeared  strange  to  me,  that 
the  American  should  betray  so  strong  an  antipathy  to 
the  system  of  the  public  schools  of  England.  There  are 
no  other  establishments,  perhaps,  in  our  country,  so  en- 
entirely  republican  both  in  principle  and  practice. 
Rank  is  there  allowed  no  privileges,  and  the  only  re- 
cognised aristocracy  is  that  of  personal  qualities.  Yet 
these  schools  are  far  from  finding  favour  in  American 
eyes.  The  system  of  fagging,  in  particular,  is  regarded 
with  abhorrence;  and  since  my  arrival,  I  have  never 
met  any  one  who  could  even  .speak  of  it  with  patience. 
The  state  of  feeling  on  this  matter  in  the  two  countries 
presents  this  curious  anomaly :  A  young  English  noble- 
man is  sent  to  Westminster  or  Winchester  to  brush 
coats  and  wash  tea-cups,  while  the  meanest  American 
storekeeper  would  redden  with  virtuous  indignation  at 
the  very  thought  of  the  issue  of  his  loins  contaminating 
his  plebeian  blood  by  the  discharge  of  such  functions. 

The  difference  of  feeling,  however,  seems  to  admit  of 
easy  explanation.  In  England,  the  menial  offices  in 
question  form  the  duties  of  freemen;  in  America,  even 
in  those  States  where  slavery  has  been  abolished,  do- 
mestic service  being  discharged  by  Negroes,  is  connect- 
ed with  a  thousand  degrading  associations.  So  power- 


54  SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE. 

ful  are  these,  that  I  have  never  yet  conversed  with  an 
American  who  could  understand  that  there  is  nothing 
intrinsically  disgraceful  in  such  duties;  and  their  being 
at  all  considered  so,  proceeds  entirely  from  a  certain 
confusion  of  thought,  which  connects  the  office  with  the 
manners  and  character  of  those  by  whom  it  is  dis- 
charged. In  a  country  where  household  services  are 
generally  performed  by  persons  of  respectable  charac-. 
ter,  on  a  level,  in  point  of  morals  and  acquirement, 
with  other  handicraftsmen,  it  is  evident  that  such  pre- 
judice could  exist  in  no  material  degree.  But  it  certain- 
ly could  not  exist  at  all  in  a  country,  where  for  a  certain 
period  such  services  were  performed  by  all,  including 
every  rank  below  royalty.  Let  the  idea  of  personal 
degradation,  therefore,  be  wholly  abstracted,  and  then 
the  question  will  rest  on  its  true  basis,  namely,  whether 
such  discipline  as  that  adopted  in  our  public  schools,  be 
favourable  to  the  improvement  of  the  moral  character 
or  not? 

In  England,  the  system  is  believed  from  long  experi- 
ence to  work  practically  well.  No  man  will  say,  that 
British  gentlemen,  formed  under  the  discipline  of  these 
institutions,  are  deficient  in  high  bearing,  or  in  generous 
spirit;  nor  will  it  readily  be  considered  a  disadvantage, 
that  those  who  are  afterwards  to  wield  the  united  in- 
fluence of  rank  and  wealth,  should,  in  their  early  years, 
be  placed  in  a  situation,  where  their  personal  and  moral 
.qualities  alone  can  place  them  even  on  an  equality  with 
their  companions.  . 

It  is  very  probable,  indeed,  that  a  system  suited  to  a 
country,  in  which  gradation  of  ranks  forms  an  integral 
part  of  the  constitution,  may  not  be  adapted  to  another, 
which  differs  so  widely  iti  these  respects,  as  the  United 
States.  Here,  there  is  no  pride  of  birth  or  station  to 
be  overcome;  and  whether,  under  circumstances  so  dif- 
ferent, the  kind  of  discipline  in  question  might  operate 
beneficially  or  otherwise,  is  a  point  on  which  I  certain- 
ly do  not  presume  to  decide.  I  only  assert  my  convic- 
tion, that  in  this  country  it  has  never  yet  been  made 
the  subject  of  liberal  and  enlightened  discussion,  and 
therefore  that  the  value  of  Transatlantic  opinion  with 
regard  to  it  is  absolutely  null.  The  conclusion  adopted 


SCHOOL  FOR  CHILDREN  OF  COLOUR.      55 

may  be  right,  but  the  grounds  on  which  it  is  founded 
are  evidently  wrong. 

Having  resolved  to  devote  the  day  to  the  inspection 
of  schools,  I  went  from  that  under  the  superintendence 
of  Professor  Griscomb,  to  another  for  the  education 
of  children  of  colour.  I  here  found  about  a  hundred 
boys,  in  whose  countenances  might  be  traced  every  pos- 
sible gradation  of  complexion  between  those  of  the 
swarthy  Ethiop  and  florid  European.  Indeed,  several 
of  the  children  were  so  fair,  that  I  certainly  never 
should  have  discovered  the  lurking  taint  of  African  de- 
scent. In  person  they  were  clean  and  neat,  and  though 
of  course  the  offspring  of  the  very  lowest  class  of  the 
people,  there  was  nothing  in  their  dress  or  appearance 
indicative  of  abject  poverty.  The  master  struck  me 
as  an  intelligent  and  benevolent  man.  He  frankly  an- 
swered all  my  questions,  and  evidently  took  pride  in 
the  proficiency  of  his  pupils. 

It  has  often  happened  to  me,  since  my  arrival  in  this 
country,  to  hear  it  gravely  maintained  by  men  of  edu- 
cation and  intelligence,  that  the  Negroes  were  an  infe- 
rior race,  a  link  as  it  were  between  man  and  the  brutes. 
Having  enjoyed  few  opportunities  of  observation  on  peo- 
ple of  colour  in  my  own  country,  I  was  now  glad  to  be 
enabled  to  enlarge  my  knowledge  on  a  subject  so  in- 
teresting. I  therefore  requested  the  master  to  inform 
me  whether  the  results  of  his  experience  had  led  to  the 
inference,  that  the  aptitude  of  the  Negro  children  for 
acquiring  knowledge  was  inferior  to  that  of  the  whites. 
In  reply,  he  assured  me  they  had  not  done  so;  and,  on 
the  contrary,  declared,  that  in  sagacity,  perseverance, 
and  capacity  for  the  acquisition  and  retention  of  know- 
ledge, his  poor  despised  scholars  were  equal  to  any  boys 
he  had  ever  known.  "  But,  alas,  sir !"  said  he,  "  to  what 
end  are  these  poor  creatures  taught  acquirement,  from 
the  exercise  of  which  they  are  destined  to  be  debarred, 
by  the  prejudices  of  society?  It  is  surely  but  a  cruel 
mockery  to  cultivate  talents,  when  in  the  present  state 
of  public  feeling,  there  is  no  field  open  for  their  useful 
employment.  Be  his  acquirements  what  they  may,  a 
Negro  is  still  a  Negro,  or,  in  other  words,  a  creature 
marked  out  for  degradation,  and  exclusion  from  those 


56  PROFICIENCY  OF  THE  SCHOLARS. 

objects  which  stimulate  the  hopes  and  powers  of  other 
men." 

I  observed,  in  reply,  that  I  was  not  aware  that,  in 
those  States  in  which  slavery  had  been  abolished,  any 
such  barrier  existed  as  that  to  which  he  alluded.  "  In 
the  State  of  New  York,  for  instance,"  I  asked,  "  are  not 
all  offices  and  professions  open  to  the  man  of  colour  as 
well  as  to  the  white?" 

"  I  see,  sir,"  replied  he,  "  that  you  are  not  a  native 
of  this  country,  or  you  would  not  have  asked  such  a 
question.  He  then  went  on  to  inform  me,  that  the 
exclusion  in  question  did  not  arise  from  any  legislative 
enactment,  but  from  the  tyranny  of  that  prejudice, 
which,  regarding  the  poor  black  as  a  being  of  inferior 
order,  works  its  own  fulfilment  in  making  him  so.  There 
was  no  answering  this,  for  it  accorded  too  well  with  my 
own  observations  in  society,  not  to  carry  my  implicit 
belief. 

The  master  then  proceeded  to  explain  the  system  of 
education  adopted  in  the  school,  and  subsequently  af- 
forded many  gratifying  proofs  of  the  proficiency  of  his 
scholars.  One  class  was  employed  in  navigation,  and 
worked  several  complicated  problems  with  great  accu- 
racy and  rapidity.  A  large  proportion  were  perfectly 
conversant  with  arithmetic,  and  not  a  few  with  the 
lower  mathematics.  A  long  and  rigid  examination  took 
place  in  geography,  in  the  course  of  which  questions 
were  answered  with  facility,  which  I  confess  would 
have  puzzled  me  exceedingly,  had  they  been  addressed 
to  myself. 

1  had  become  so  much  interested  in  the  little  party- 
coloured  crowd  before  me,  that  I  recurred  to  our  for- 
mer discourse,  and  inquired  of  the  master,  what  would 
probably  become  of  his  scholars  on  their  being  sent  out 
into  the  world  1  Some  trades,  some  description  of  la- 
bour of  course  were  open  to  them,  and  I  expressed  my 
desire  to  know  what  these  were.  He  told  me  they 
were  few.  The  class  studying  navigation,  were  destined 
to  be  sailors;  but  let  their  talents  be  what  they  might, 
it  was  impossible  they  could  rise  to  be  officers  of  the 
paltriest  merchantman  that  entered  the  waters  of  the 
United  States.  The  office  of  cook  or  steward  was  in- 


SUBJECTED  TO  THE  SLAVERY  OF  OPINION.       57 

deed  within  the  scope  of  their  ambition;  but  it  was  just 
as  feasible  for  the  poor  creatures  to  expect  to  became 
Chancellor  of  the  State,  as  mate  of  a  ship.  In  other 
pursuits,  it  was  the  same.  Some  would  become  stone- 
masons, or  bricklayers,  and  to  the  extent  of  carrying  a 
hod,  or  handling  a  trowel,  the  course  was  clear  before 
them;  but  the  office  of  master-bricklayer  was  open  to 
them  in  precisely  the  same  sense  as  the  Professorship  of 
Natural  Philosophy.  No  white  artificer  would  serve 
under  a  coloured  master.  The  most  degraded  Irish 
emigrant  would  scout  the  idea  with  indignation.  As 
carpenters,  shoemakers,  or  tailors,  they  were  still  ar- 
rested by  the  same  barrier.  In  either  of  the  latter  ca- 
pacities, indeed,  they  might  work  for  people  of  their 
own  complexion,  but  no  gentleman  would  ever  think 
of  ordering  garments  of  any  sort  from  a  Schneider  of 
cuticle  less  white  than  his  own.  Grocers  they  might 
be,  but  then  who  could  perceive  the  possibility  of  a  re- 
spectable household  matron  purchasing  tea  or  spiceries 
from  a  vile  "  Nigger?"  As  barbers,  they  were  more 
fortunate,  and  in  that  capacity  might  even  enjoy  the 
privilege  of  taking  the  President  of  the  United  States 
by  the  nose.  Throughout  the  Union,  the  department 
of  domestic  service  particularly  belongs  to  them,  though 
recently  they  are  beginning,  to  find  rivals  in  the  Irish 
emigrants,  who  come  annually  in  swarms  like  locusts. 
On  the  whole,  I  cannot  help  considering  it  a  mistake 
to  suppose,  that  slavery  has  been  abolished  in  the 
Northern  States  of  the  Union.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that 
in  these  States  the  power  of  compulsory  labour  no  long^- 
er  exists;  and  that  one  human  being  within  their  limits, 
ean  no  longer  claim  property  in  the  thews  and  sinews 
of  another.  But  is  this  all  that  is  implied  in  the  boon 
of  freedom?  If  the  word  mean  any  thing,  it  must  mean 
the  enjoyment  of  equal  rights,  and  the  unfettered  ex- 
ercise in  each  individual  of  such  powers  and  faculties 
as  God  has  given  him.  In  this  true  meaning  of  the 
word,  it  may  be  safely  asserted,  that  this  poor  degraded 
caste  are  still  slaves.  They  are  subjected  to  the  most 
grinding  and  humiliating  of  all  slaveries,  that  of  uni- 
versal and  unconquerable  prejudice.  The  whip,  in- 
deed, has  been  removed  from  the  back  of  the  Negro, 

8 


58      CONDITION  OF  THE  COLOURED  POPULATION. 

but  the  chains  are  still  on  his  limbs,  and  he  bears  the 
brand  of  degradation  on  his  forehead.  What  is  it  but 
the  mere  abuse  of  language  to  call  him  free,  who  is 
tyrannically  deprived  of  all  the  motives  to  exertion 
which  animate  other  men?  The  law,  in  truth,  has  left 
him  in  that  most  pitiable  of  all  conditions,  a  master- 
less  slave. 

It  cannot  be  denied,  that  the  Negro  population  are 
still  compelled,  as  a  class,  to  be  the  hewers  of  wood, 
and  drawers  of  water,  to  their  fellow-citizens.  Citi- 
zens! there  is,  indeed,  something  ludicrous  in  the  ap- 
plication of  the  word  to  these  miserable  Pariahs.  What 
privileges  do  they  enjoy  as  such?  Are  they  admissible 
upon  a  jury?  Can  they  enrol  themselves  in  the  militia? 
Will  a  white  man  eat  with  them,  or  extend  to  them  the 
hand  of  fellowship?  Alas!  if  these  men,  so  irresistibly 
manacled  to  degradation,  are  to  be  called  free,  tell  us, 
at  least,  what  stuff  are  slaves  made  of! 

But  on  this  subject,  perhaps,  another  tone  of  expres- 
sion— of  thought,  there  can  be  no  other — may  be  more 
judicious.  I  have  already  seen  abundant  proofs,  that 
the  prejudices  against  the  coloured  portion  of  the  po- 
pulation, prevailed  to  an  extent,  of  which  an  English- 
man could  have  formed  no  idea.  But  many  enlight- 
ened men,  I  am  convinced  are  above  them.  To  these 
I  would  appeal.  They  have  already  begun  the  work 
of  raising  this  unfortunate  race  from  the  almost  brutal 
state  to  which  tyranny  and  injustice  had  condemned 
it.  But  let  them  not  content  themselves  with  such  de- 
lusive benefits  as  the  extension  of  the  right  of  suffrage, 
recently  conferred  by  the  Legislature  of  New  York.* 
The  opposition  to  be  overcome,  is  not  that  of  law, 
but  of  opinion.  If,  in  unison  with  the  ministers  of  re- 
ligion, they  will  set  their  shoulders  to  the  wheel,  and 
combat  prejudice  with  reason,  ignorance  with  knovv- 

*  The  Legislature  of  New  York,  in  1829,  extended  the  right  of 
suffrage  to  men  of  colour,  possessed  of  a  clear  freehold  estate,  without 
encumbrance,  of  the  value  of  250  dollars.  A  very  safe  concession,  no 
doubt,  since  to  balance  the  black  interest,  the  same  right  of  suffrage 
was  granted  to  every  white  male  of  twenty-one  years,  who  has  been  one 
year  in  the  State.  It  might  be  curious  to  know  how  many  coloured 
voters  became  qualified  by  this  enactment.  They  must,  indeed, 
have  been  ran  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto  of  the  election. 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  YOUNG  HAYTIAN.      59 

ledge,  and  pharisalcal  assumption  with  the  mild  tenets 
of  Christianity,  they  must  succeed  in  infusing  a  better 
tone  into  the  minds  and  hearts  of  their  countrymen.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  the  victory  will  not  be  achieved  in  a 
day,  nor  probably  in  an  age,  but  assuredly  it  will  come 
at  last.  In  achieving  it,  they  will  become  the  bene- 
factors, not  only  of  the  Negro  population,  but  of  their 
fellow-citizens.  They  will  give  freedom  to  both;  for 
the  man  is  really  not  more  free,  whose  mind  is  shackled 
by  degrading  prejudice,  than  he  who  is  its  victim. 

As  illustrative  of  the  matter  in  hand,  I  am  tempted 
here  to  relate  an  anecdote,  though  somewhat  out  of 
place,  as  it  did  not  occur  till  my  return  to  New  York 
the  following  spring.  Chancing  one  day  at  the  Ordi- 
nary at  Bunker's  to  sit  next  an  English  merchant  from 
St.  Domingo,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  he  men- 
tioned the  following  circumstances.  The  son  of  a  Hay- 
tian  general,  high  in  the  favour  of  Boyer,  recently  ac- 
companied him  to  New  York,  which  he  came  to  visit 
for  pleasure  and  instruction.  This  young  man,  though 
a  mulatto,  was  pleasing  in  manner,  and  with  more  in- 
telligence than'is  usually  to  be  met  with  in  a  country 
in  which  education  is  so  defective.  At  home,  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  receive  all  the  deference  due  to  his 
rank,  and  when  he  arrived  in  New  York,  it  was  with 
high  anticipations  of  the  pleasure  that  awaited  him  in 
a  city  so  opulent  and  enlightened. 

On  landing,  he  inquired  for  the  best  hotel,  and  di- 
rected his  baggage  to  be  conveyed  there.  He  was 
rudely  refused  admittance,  and  tried  several  others 
with  similar  result.  At  length  he  was  forced  to  take 
up  his  abode  in  a  miserable  lodging-house  kept  by  a 
Negro  woman.  The  pride  of  the  young  Haytian 
(who,  sooth  to  say,  was  something  of  a  dandy,  and 
made  imposing  display  of  gold  chains  and  brooches,) 
was  sadly  galled  by  this,  and  the  experience  of  every 
hour  tended  farther  to  confirm  the  conviction,  that,  in 
this  country,  he  was  regarded  as  a  degraded  being, 
with  whom  the  meanest  white  man  would  hold  it  dis- 
graceful to  associate.  In  the  evening,  he  went  to  the 
theatre,  and  tendered  his  money  to  the  box-keeper.  It 
was  tossed  back  to  him,  with  a  disdainful  intimation, 


60  PEOPLE  OF  COLOUR. 

that  the  place  for  persons  of  his  colour  was  the  upper 
gallery. 

On  the  following  morning,  my  countryman,  who  had 
frequently  been  a  guest  at  the  table  of  his  father,  paid 
him  a  visit.  He  found  the  young  Haytian  in  despair. 
All  his  dreams  of  pleasure  were  gone,  and  he  returned 
to  his  native  island  by  the  first  conveyance,  to  visit  the 
United  States  no  more. 

This  young  man  should  have  gone  to  Europe. — 
Should  he  visit  England,  he  may  feel  quite  secure, 
that,  if  he  have  money  in  his  pocket,  he  will  offer 
himself  at  no  hotel,  from  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's 
house,  where  he  will  not  meet  with  a  very  cordial  recep- 
tion. Churches,  theatres,  operas,  concerts,  coaches, 
chariots,  cabs,  vans,  wagons,  steam-boats,  railway-car- 
riages and  air-balloons,  will  all  be  open  to  him  as  the 
daylight.  He  may  repose  on  cushions  of  down  or  of 
air,  he  may  charm  his  ear  with  music,  and  his  palate 
with  luxuries  of  all  sorts.  He  may  travel  en  prince, 
or  en  roturier,  precisely  as  his  fancy  dictates,  and 
may  enjoy  even  the  honours  of  a  crowned  head,  if  he 
will  only  pay  like  one.  In  short,  so  long  as  he  carries 
certain  golden  ballast  about  with  him,  all  will  go  well. 
But  when  that  is  done,  his  case  is  pitiable.  He  will 
then  become  familiar  with  the  provisions  of  the  vagrant 
act,  and  Mr.  Roe  or  Mr.  Ballantine  will  recommend 
exercise  on  the  treadmill,  for  the  benefit  of  his  consti- 
tution. Let  him  but  show  his  nose  abroad,  and  a  whole 
host  of  parish  overseers  will  take  alarm.  The  new 
police  will  bait  him  like  a  bull;  and  should  he  dare 
approach  even  the  lowest  eating-house,  the  master  will 
shut  the  door  in  his  face.  If  he  ask  charity,  he  will 
be  told  to  work.  If  he  beg  work,  he  will  be  told  to 
get  about  his  business.  If  he  steal,  he  will  be  found 
a  free  passage  to  Botany  Bay,  and  be  dressed  gratis  on 
his  arrival,  in  an  elegant  suit  of  yellow.  If  he  rob, 
he  will  be  found  a  free  passage  to  another  world,  in 
which,  as  there  is  no  paying  or  receiving  in  payment, 
we  may  hope  that  his  troubles  will  be  at  an  end  for 
ever, 


HOUSES  IN  NEW  YORK,  61 


CHAPTER  V. 

NEW  YORK. 

HAVING  moved,  since  my  arrival,  in  a  tolerably  wide 
circle,  I  now  feel  qualified  to  offer  some  observations 
on  the  state  of  society  in  New  York.  The  houses  of 
the  better  order  of  citizens,  are  generally  of  brick, 
sometimes  faced  with  stone  or  marble,  and,  in  the  al- 
lotment of  the  interior  very  similar  to  tenements  of 
the  same  class  in  England.  The  dining  and  drawing- 
rooms  are  uniformly  on  the  ground  floor,  and  commu- 
nicate by  folding-doors,  which,  when  dinner  is  an- 
nounced, are  thrown  open  for  the  transit  of  the  com- 
pany. The  former  of  these  apartments,  so  far  as  my 
observation  has  carried  me,  differs  nothing  in  appear- 
ance from  an  English  one.  But  the  drawing-rooms  in 
New  York  certainly  strike  me  as  being  a  good  deal 
more  primitive  in  their  appliances  than  those  of  the 
more  opulent  classes  in  the  old  country.  Furniture  in 
the  United  States  is,  apparently,  not  one  of  those  arti- 
cles in  which  wealth  takes  pride  in  displaying  its  supe- 
riority. Every  thing  is  comfortable,  but  every  thing 
is  plain.  Here  are  no  buhl  tables,  nor  or-molu  clocks, 
nor  gigantic  mirrors,  nor  cabinets  of  Japan,  nor  dra- 
peries of  silk  or  velvet;  and  one  certainly  does  miss 
those  thousand  elegancies,  with  which  the  taste  of 
British  ladies  delights  in  adorning  their  apartments. 
In  short,  the  appearance  of  an  American  mansion  is 
decidedly  republican.  No  want  remains  unsupplied, 
while  nothing  is  done  for  the  gratification  of  a  taste  for 
expensive  luxury. 

This  is  as  it  should  be.  There  are  few  instances  of 
such  opulence  in  America,  as  would  enable  the  owner, 
without  inconvenience,  to  lavish  thousands  on  pictures, 
ottomans,  and  china  vases.  In  such  a  country,  there 
are  means  of  profitable  outlay  for  every  shilling  of  ac^ 
cumulated  capital,  and  the  Americans  are  too  prudent 


62  SERVANTS  IN  AMERICA. 

a  people  to  invest  in  objects  of  mere  taste,  that  which, 
in  the  more  vulgar  shape  of  cotton  and  tobacco,  would 
tend  to  the  replenishing  of  their  pockets.  And,  after 
all,  it  is  better,  perhaps,  to  sit  on  leather  or  cotton, 
with  a  comfortable  balance  at  one's  banker's  book,  than, 
to  lounge  on  damask,  and  tread  on  carpets  of  Persia, 
puzzling  our  brains  about  the  budget  and  the  ways  and 
means. 

One  cause  of  the  effect  just  noticed,  is,  unquestiona- 
bly, the  absence  of  the  law,  or,  rather,  the  custom  of 
primogeniture.  A  man,  whose  fortune,  at  his  death, 
must  be  divided  among  a  numerous  family,  in  equal 
proportions,  will  not  readily  invest  any  considerable 
portion  of  it,  in  such  inconvertible  objects  as  the  pro- 
ductions of  the  fine  arts,  and  still  less  in  articles  of 
mere  household  luxury,  unsuited  to  the  circumstances 
of  his  descendants.  It  will  rarely  happen,  that  a  fa- 
ther can  bequeath  to  each  of  his  children  enough  to 
render  them  independent.  They  have  to  struggle  into 
opulence  as  best  they  may;  and,  assuredly,  to  men  so 
circumstanced,  nothing  could  be  more  inconvenient 
and  distasteful,  than  to  receive  any  part  of  their  lega- 
cies in  the  form  of  pictures,  or  scagliola  tables,  in- 
gtead  of  Erie  canal  shares,  or  bills  of  the  New  York 
Bank. 

Another  circumstance,  probably  not  without  its  ef- 
fect in  recommending  both  paucity  and  plainness  of 
furniture,  is  the  badness  of  the  servants.  These  are 
.chiefly  people  of  colour,  habituated,  from  their  cradle, 
to  be  regarded  as  an  inferior  race,  and,  consequently, 
sadly  wanting  both  in  moral  energy  and  principle. 
Every  lady  with  whom  I  have  conversed  on  the  sub- 
ject, speaks  with  envy  of  the  superior  comforts  and  fa~ 
cilities  of  an  English  establishment.  A  coloured  ser- 
vant, they  declare,  requires  perpetual  supervision.  He 
is  an  executive,  not  a  deliberative  being.  Under  such 
circumstances,  the  drudgery  that  devolves  on  an  Ame- 
rican matron,  I  should  imagine  to  be  excessive.  She 
must  direct  every  operation  that  is  going  on  from  the 
garret  to  the  cellar.  She  must  be  her  own  housekeep- 
er, superintend  all  the  outgoings  and  comings  in,  and 
interfere  in  a  thousand  petty  and  annoying  details, 


SERVANTS  IN  AMERICA.  63 

which,  in  England,  go  on  like  clock-work,  out  of  sight 
and  out  of  thought. 

If  it  fare  so  with  the  mistress  of  an  establishment,  the 
master  has  no  sinecure.  A  butler  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. He  would  much  rather  know  that  the  keys  of 
his  cellar  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  Hudson,  than  in 
the  pocket  of  black  Cassar,  with  a  fair  opportunity  of 
getting  at  his  Marston  or  his  Bingham.  Few  of  the 
coloured  population  have  energy  to  resist  temptation. 
The  dread  of  punishment  has  been  removed  as  an  ha- 
bitual motive  to  exertion,  but  the  sense  of  inextin- 
guishable degradation  yet  remains. 

The  torment  of  such  servants  has  induced  many  fa- 
milies in  New  York  to  discard  them  altogether,  and 
supply  their  places  with  natives  of  the  Emerald  Isle. 
It  may  be  doubted,  whether  the  change  has  generally 
been  accompanied  by  much  advantage.  Domestic  ser- 
vice in  the  United  States  is  considered  as  degrading  by 
all  untainted  by  the  curse  of  African  descent.  No  na- 
tive American  could  be  induced  to  it,  and  popular  as 
the  present  President  may  be,  he  would  probably  not 
find  one  of  his  constituents,  whom  any  amount  of  emo- 
lument would  induce  to  brush  his  coat,  or  stand  behind 
his  carriage.  On  their  arrival  in  this  country,  there- 
fore, the  Scotch  and  English,  who  are  not  partial  to 
being  looked  down  upon  by  their  neighbours,  very  soon 
get  hold  of  this  prejudice;  but  he  of  that  terrestrial 
paradise,  "first  flower  of  the  earth,  and  first  gem  of 
the  sea,"  has  no  such  scruples.  Landing  often,  at  the 
quay  of  New  York,  without  hat,  shoes,  and  sometimes 
less  dispensable  garments,  he  is  content  to  put  his  pride 
in  his  pocket,  where  there  is  always  ample  room  for 
its  accommodation.  But  even  with  him  domestic  ser- 
vice is  only  a  temporary  expedient.  The  moment 
he  contrives  to  scrape  together  a  little  money,  he  bids 
his  master  good  morning,  and  fired  with  the  ambition 
of  farming  or  store-keeping,  starts  off  for  the  back 
country. 

The  nuisance  of  this  is,  that  no  white  servant  is  ever 
stationary  in  a  place.  He  comes  a  mere  clod-pole,  and 
is  no  sooner  taught  his  duty,  and  become  a  useful  mem- 
ber of  the  house,  than  he  accepts  the  Chiltern  Hun- 


64  SERVANTS  IN  AMERICA. 

dreds,  and  a  new  writ  must  forthwith  be  issued  for  a 
tenant  of  the  pantry.  Now,  though  annual  elections 
may  be  very  good  things  in  the  body  politic,  the  most 
democratic  American  will  probably  admit,  that  in  the 
body  domestic,  the  longer  the  members  keep  their 
seats  the  better.  Habits  of  office  are  of  some  value  in 
a  valet,  as  well  as  in  a  secretary  of  state,  and  how  these 
are  to  be  obtained  by  either  functionary,  as  matters  are 
at  present  ordered  in  this  country,  I  profess  myself  at 
a  loss  to  understand. 

When  you  enter  an  American  house,  either  in  qua- 
lity of  casual  visiter  or  invited  guest,  the  servant  never 
thinks  of  ushering  you  to  the  company;  on  the  con- 
trary, he  immediately  disappears,  leaving  you  to  ex- 
plore your  way,  in  a  navigation  of  which  you  know 
nothing,  or  to  amuse  yourself  in  the  passage  by  count- 
ing the  hat-pegs  and  umbrellas.  In  a  strange  house, 
one  cannot  take  the  liberty  of  bawling  for  assistance, 
and  the  choice  only  remains  of  opening  doors  on  spe- 
culation, with  the  imminent  risk  of  intruding  on  the 
bed-room  of  some  young  lady,  or  of  cutting  the  gor- 
dian  knot  by  escaping  through  the  only  one  you  know 
any  thing  about.  I  confess,  that  the  first  time  I  found 
myself  in  this  unpleasant  predicament,  the  latter  expe- 
dient was  the  one  I  adopted,  though,  I  fear,  not  with- 
out offence  to  an  excellent  family,  who,  having  learned 
the  fact  of  my  admission,  could  not  be  supposed  to 
understand  the  motive  of  my  precipitate  retreat. 

On  the  whole,  the  difference  is  not  striking,  I  should 
imagine,  between  the  social  habits  of  the  people  of 
New  York,  and  those  prevalent  in  our  first-rate  mer- 
cantile cities.  In  both,  the  faculties  are  exerted  in  the 
same  pursuits;  in  both,  the  dominant  aristocracy  is  that 
of  wealth ;  and,  in  both,  there  is  the  same  grasping  at 
unsubstantial  and  unacknowledged  distinctions. 

It  is  the  fashion  to  call  the  United  States  the  land  of 
liberty  and  equality.  If  the  term  equality  be  under- 
stood simply  as  implying,  that  there  exists  no  privileged 
order  in  America,  the  assertion,  though  not  strictly 
true,*  may  pass.  In  any  wider  acceptation  it  is  mere 

*  Not  strictly  true,  because  in  many  of  the  States  the  right  of  suf- 


MANNERS  OF  THE  HIGHER  ORDERS.  65 

nonsense.  There  is  quite  as  much  practical  equality  in 
Liverpool  as  New  York.  The  magnates  of  the  Ex- 
change do  not  strut  less  proudly  in  the  latter  city  than 
in  the  former ;  nor  are  their  wives  and  daughters  more 
backward  in  supporting  their  pretensions.  In  such 
matters  legislative  enactments  can  do  nothing.  Man's 
vanity,  and  the  desire  of  distinction  inherent  in  his  na- 
ture, cannot  be  repressed.  If  obstructed  in  one  outlet, 
it  will  only  gush  forth  with  greater  vehemence  at  ano- 
ther. The  most  contemptible  of  mankind  has  some  ta- 
lent of  mind  or  body,  some  attraction — virtue — accom- 
plishment— dexterity — or  gift  of  fortune, — in  short, 
something  real  or  imaginary,  on  which  he  arrogates 
superiority  to  those  around  him.  The  rich  man  looks 
down  upon  the  poor,  the  learned  on  the  ignorant,  the 
orator  on  him  unblessed  with  the  gift  of  tongues,  and 
"  he  that  is  a  true-born  gentleman,  and  stands  upon  the 
honour  of  his  birth,"  despises  the  roturier,  whose  talents 
have  raised  him  to  an  estimation  in  society,  perhaps, 
superior  to  his  own. 

Thus  it  is  with  the  men,  and  with  the  fairer  sex  as- 
suredly it  is  not  different.  No  woman,  conscious  of  at- 
traction, was  ever  a  republican  in  her  heart.  Beauty 
is  essentially  despotic — it  uniformly  asserts  its  power, 
and  never  yet  consented  to  a  surrender  of  privilege.  I 
have  certainly  heard  it  maintained  in  the  United  States, 
that  all  men  were  equal,  but  never  did  I  hear  that  as- 
sertion from  the  lips  of  a  lady.  On  the  contrary,  the 
latter  is  always  conscious  of  the  full  extent  of  her 
claims  to  preference  and  admiration,  and  is  never  satis- 
fied till  she  feels  them  to  be  acknowledged.  And  what 
zephyr  is  too  light  to  fill  the  gossamer  sails  of  woman's 
vanity !  The  form  of  a  feature,  the  whiteness  of  a 
hand,  the  shade  of  a  ringlet,  a  cap,  a  feather,  a  trinket, 
a  smile,  a  motion — all,  or  any  of  these,  or  distinctions 
yet  finer  and  more  shadowy,  if  such  there  be — are 
enough,  here  as  elsewhere,  to  constitute  the  sign  and 
shibboleth  of  her  fantastic  supremacy.  It  is  in  vain, 
therefore,  to  talk  of  female  republicans;  there  exists, 

frage  is  made  dependent  on  a  certain  qualification  in  property.  In 
Virginia,  in  particular,  this  qualification  is  very  high. 


66  ARISTOCRACY  OF  FASHION. 

and  can  exist,  no  such  being  on  either  side  of  the  At- 
lantic, for  human  nature  is  the  same  on  both. 

In  truth,  the  spirit  of  aristocracy  displays  itself  in 
this  commercial  community  in  every  variety  of  form. 
One  encounters  it  at  every  turn.  T'other  night,  at  a 
ball,  I  had  the  honour  to  converse  a  good  deal  with  a 
lady,  who  is  confessedly  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  in 
the  hemisphere  of  fashion.  She  inquired  what  I  thought 
of  the  company.  1  answered,  "  that  I  had  rarely  seen 
a  party  in  any  country  in  which  the  average  of  beauty 
appeared  to  me  to  be  so  high." 

"  Indeed!"  answered  my  fair  companion,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  surprise;  "  it  would  seem  that  you  English 
gentlemen  are  not  difficult  to  please;  but  does  it  strike 
you,  that  the  average  is  equally  high  as  regards  air, 
manner,  fashion  ?" 

"  In  regard  to  such  matters,"  I  replied,  "  I  certainly 
could  not  claim  for  the  party  in  question  any  remarka- 
ble distinction;  but  that,  in  a  scene  so  animated,  and 
brilliant  with  youth,  beauty,  and  gaiety  of  spirit,  I  was 
little  disposed  to  play  the  critic." 

"  Nay,"  replied  my  opponent,  for  the  conversation 
had  already  begun  to  assume  something  of  the  form  of 
argument,  "  it  surely  requires  no  spirit  of  rigid  criticism, 
to  discriminate  between  such  a  set  of  vulgarians,  as  you 
see  collected  here,  and  ladies  who  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  move  in  a  higher  and  better  circle.  Mrs. 

is  an  odd  person,  and  makes  it  a  point  to  bring 

together  at  her  balls  all  the  riff-raff  of  the  place — peo- 
ple whom,  if  you  were  to  remain  ten  years  in  New 
York,  you  would  probably  never  meet  any  where  else. 
I  assure  you,  there  are  not  a  dozen  girls  in  this  room 
that  I  should  think  of  admitting  to  my  own  parties." 

Thus  driven  from  the  field,  I  ventured  to  direct  her 
notice  to  several  elegant  and  pretty  girls,  about  whom 
I  asked  some  questions.  Their  attractions,  however, 
were  either  not  admitted,  or  when  these  were  too  de- 
cided to  allow  of  direct  negation,  the  subject  was  inge- 
niously evaded.  If  I  talked  of  a  pretty  foot,  I  was  told 
its  owner  was  the  daughter  of  a  tobacconist.  If  I  ad- 
mired a  graceful  dancer,  I  was  assured  (what  I  certain- 
ly should  not  have  discovered)  that  the  young  lady  was 


ARISTOCRACY  OF  WEALTH.  67 

of  vulgar  manners,  and  without  education.  Some  were 
so  utterly  unknown  to  fame,  that  the  very  names,  birth, 
habits,  and  connexions,  were  buried  in  the  most  pro- 
found and  impenetrable  obscurity.  In  short,  a  Count 
of  the  Empire,  with  his  sixteen  quarterings,  probably 
would  not  have  thought,  and  certainly  would  not  have 
spoken,  with  contempt  half  so  virulent  of  these  fair  ple- 
beians. The  reader  will  perhaps  agree,  that  there  are 
more  exclusives  in  the  world  than  the  lady-patronesses 
of  Almack's. 

I  shall  now  give  an  instance  of  the  estimation  in 
which  wealth  is  held  in  this  commercial  community. 
At  a  party  a  few  evenings  ago,  the  worthy  host  was 
politely  assiduous  in  introducing  me  to  the  more  promi- 
nent individuals  who  composed  it.  Unfortunately,  he 
considered  it  necessary  to  preface  each  repetition  of  the 
ceremony  with  some  preliminary  account  of-.the  pecu- 
niary circumstances  of  the  gentleman,  the  honour  of 
whose  acquaintance  was  about  to  be  conferred  on  me. 
"Do  you  observe,"  he  asked,  "that  tall  thin  person, 
with  a  cast  in  his  eye,  and  his  nose  a  little  cocked  ? 
Well,  that  man,  not  three  months  ago,  made  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars  by  a  single  speculation  in  tallow. 
must  allow  me  to  introduce  you  to  him." 

The  introduction  passed,  and  my  zealous  cicerone 
again  approached,  with  increased  importance  of  aspect 
— "  A  gentleman,"  he  said,  "  worth  at  least  half  a  mil- 
lion, had  expressed  a  desire  to  make  my  acquaintance." 
This  was  gratifying,  and,  of  course,  not  to  be  denied. 
A  third  time  did  our  worthy  entertainer  return  to  the 
charge,  and  before  taking  my  departure,  I  had  the  ho- 
nour of  being  introduced  to  an  individual,  who  was 
stated  to  be  still  more  opulent  than  his  predecessors. 
Had  I  been  presented  to  so  many  bags  of  dollars,  in- 
stead of  to  their  possessors,  the  ceremony  would  have 
been  quite  as  interesting,  and  perhaps  less  trouble- 
some. 

The  truth  is,  that  in  a  population  wholly  devoted 
to  money-getting,  the  respect  paid  to  wealth  is  so 
pervadingly  diffused,  that  it  rarely  occurred  to  any 
one,  that  it  was  impossible  I  should  feel  the  slightest 
interest  in  the  private  circumstances'of  the  gentlemen 


68  NEW  YORK  PARTIES. 

with  whom  I  might  chance  to  form  a  transient  acquain- 
tance. It  is  far  from  my  intention,  however,  to  assert, 
that  many  of  the  travelled  and  more  intelligent  order 
of  Americans  could  be  guilty  of  such  sottises  as  that  to 
which  I  have  alluded.  But  it  is  unquestionably  true, 
that  the  tone  of  conversation,  even  in  the  best  circles, 
is  materially  lowered  by  the  degree  in  which  it  is  en- 
grossed by  money  and  its  various  interests.  Since  my 
arrival,  I  have  received  much  involuntary  instruction 
in  the  prices  of  corn,  cotton,  and  tobacco.  I  am  alrea- 
dy well  informed  as  to  the  reputed  pecuniary  resources 
of  every  gentleman  of  my  acquaintance,  and  the  annual 
amount  of  his  disbursements.  My  stock  of  informa- 
tion as  to  bankruptcies  and  dividends  is  very  respecta- 
ble; and  if  the  manufacturers  of  Glasgow  and  Paisley 
knew  only  half  as  well  as  I  do,  how  thoroughly  the 
New  York  market  is  glutted  with  their  goods,  they 
assuredly  would  send  out  no  more  on  speculation. 

The  usual  dinner  hour  at  New  York  is  three  o'clock; 
and,  as  the  gentlemen  almost  uniformly  return  to  the 
discharge  of  business  in  the  evening,  it  may  be  pre- 
sumed that  dinner  parties  are  neither  convenient  t'o 
he  entertainer  nor  to  the  guests.  Though  not  uncom- 
non,  therefore,  they  are  certainly  less  frequent  than 
among  individuals  of  the  same  class  in  England.  This 
circumstance  has,  perhaps,  wrought  some  change  in 
their  character,  and  deprived  them  of  that  appearance 
of  easy  and  habitual  hospitality,  for  the  absence  of 
which,  additional  splendour  or  profusion  can  afford  but 
imperfect  compensation.  When  a  dinner  party  is  given 
in  this  country,  it  is  always  on  a  great  scale.  Earth, 
and  air,  and  ocean,  are  ransacked  for  their  products. 
The  whole  habits  of  the  family  are  deranged.  The 
usual  period  of  the  meal  is  postponed  for  several  hours; 
and,  considering  the  materials  of  which  an  American 
menage  is  composed,  it  is  not  difficult  to  conceive  the 
bustle  and  confusion  participated  by  each  member  of 
the  establishment,  from  Peter,  the  saffron-coloured 
groom  of  the  chambers,  to  Silvia,  the  black  kitchen 
wench. 

In  the  ordinary  routine,  therefore,  of  American  in- 
tercourse, visiting  seldom  commences  till  the  evening, 


NEW  YORK  PARTIES.  69 

when  the  wealthier  members  of  the  community  almost 
uniformly  open  their  houses  for  the  reception  of  com- 
pany. Of  this  hospitable  arrangement  I  have  frequent- 
ly taken  advantage.  On  such  occasions  little  ceremo- 
ny is  observed.  Each  guest  enters  and  departs  when 
he  thinks  proper,  without  apology  or  explanation.  Mu- 
sic and  conversation  are  the  usual  entertainments — 
some  slight  refection  is  handed  round,  and  before  mid- 
night the  party  has  broken  up. 

This  facility  of  intercourse  is  both  pleasant  and  con- 
venient to  a  stranger  like  myself.  It  affords  valuable 
opportunities  for  the  observation  of  manners;  and  it  is 
pleasing  to  be  admitted  within  the  charmed  circle, 
which  many  of  my  predecessors  have  found  it  difficult, 
if  not  impossible,  to  overpass. 

The  formalities  of  a  New  York  dinner  do  not  differ 
much  from  those  of  an  English  one.  Unfortunately, 
it  is  not  here  the  fashion  to  invite  the  fairer  part  of 
creation  to  entertainments  so  gross  and  substantial,  and 
it  rarely  happens  that  any  ladies  are  present  on  such 
occasions,  except  those  belonging  to  the  family  of  the 
host.  The  party,  however,  is  always  enlivened  by 
their  presence  at  the  tea-table;  and  then  comes  music, 
and  perhaps  dancing:  while  those  who,  like  myself, 
are  disqualified  for  active  participation  in  such  festivi- 
ties, talk  with  an  air  of  grave  authority  of  revolutions 
in  Europe,  the  prospects  of  war  or  peace,  Parliamen- 
tary Reform,  and  other  high  and  interesting  matters. 

Before  dinner,  the  conversation  of  the  company  as- 
sembled in  the  drawing-room  is  here,  as  elsewhere,  ge- 
nerally languid  enough;  but  a  change  suddenly  comes 
over  the  spirit  of  their  dream:  The  folding-doors  which 
communicate  with  the  dining-room  are  thrown  open, 
and  all  paradise  is  at  once  let  in  on  the  soul  of  a  gour- 
mand. The  table,  instead  of  displaying,  as  with  us,  a 
mere  beggarly  account  offish  and  soup,  exhibits  an  ar- 
ray of  dishes  closely  wedged  in  triple  column,  which 
it  would  require  at  least  an  acre  of  mahogany  to  deploy 
into  line.  Plate,  it  is  true,  does  not  contribute  much 
to  the  splendour  of  the  prospect,  but  there  is  quite 
enough  for  comfort,  though  not,  perhaps,  for  display. 
The  lady  of  the  mansion  is  handed  in  form  to  her  seat, 


70  WINES. 

and  the  entertainment  begins.  The  domestics,  black, 
white,  snuff-coloured,  and  nankeen,  are  in  motion; 
plates  vanish  and  appear  again  as  if  by  magic;  turtle, 
cold-blooded  by  nature,  has  become  hot  as  Sir  Charles 
Wetherell,  and  certainly  never  moved  so  rapidly  be- 
fore. The  flight  of  ham  and  turkey  is  unceasing:  ve- 
nison bounds  from  one  end  of  the  table  to  the  other, 
with  a  velocity  never  exceeded  in  its  native  forest;  and . 
the  energies  of  twenty  human  beings  are  all  evidently 
concentrated  in  one  common  occupation. 

During  soup  and  fish,  and,  perhaps,  the  first  slice  of 
the  haunch,  conversation  languishes,  but  a  glass  or  two 
of  Champagne  soon  operates  as  a  corrective.  The  eyes 
of  the  young  ladies  become  more  brilliant,  and  those  of 
elderly  gentlemen  acquire  a  certain  benevolent  twinkle, 
which  indicates,  that  for  the  time  being  they  are  in 
charity  with  themselves  and  all  mankind. 

At  length,  the  first  course  is  removed,  and  is  suc- 
ceeded by  a  whole  wilderness  of  sweets.  This,  too, 
passes,  for  it  is  impossible,  alas!  to  eat  for  ever.  Then 
come  cheese  and  the  dessert;  then  the  departure  of  the 
ladies;  and  claret  and  Madeira  for  an  hour  or  twain  are 
unquestioned  lords  of  the  ascendant. 

The  latter  is  almost  uniformly  excellent.  I  have 
never  drank  any  Madeira  in  Europe  at  all  equalling 
what  I  have  frequently  met  in  the  United  States. 
Gourmets  attribute  this  superiority  partly  to  climate, 
but  in  a  great  measure  to  management.  Madeira,  in 
this  country,  is  never  kept  as  with  us,  in  a  subterranean 
vault,  where  the  temperature  throughout  the  year  is 
nearly  equal.  It  is  placed  in  the  attics,  where  it  is  ex- 
posed to  the  whole  fervour  of  the  summer's  heat,  and 
the  severity  of  winter's  cold.  The  .effect  on  the  fla- 
vour of  the  wine  is  certainly  remarkable. 

The  Claret  is  generally  good,  but  not  better  than  in 
England;  Port  is  used  by  the  natives  only  as  a  medi- 
cine, and  is  rarely  produced  at  table  except  in  compli- 
ment to  some  English  stranger,  it  being  a  settled  canon, 
here  as  elsewhere,  that  every  Englishman  drinks  Port. 
I  have  never  yet  seen  fine  Sherry,  probably  because 
that  wine  has  not  yet  risen  into  esteem  in  the  United 
States. 


OBSERVATIONS  ON  MANNERS.  *j\ 

The  gentlemen  in  America  pique  themselves  on 
their  discrimination  in  wine,  in  a  degree  which  is  not 
common  in  England.  The  ladies  have  no  sooner  risen 
from  the  table,  tl\an  the  business  of  wine-bibbing  com- 
mences in  good  earnest.  The  servants  still  remain  in 
the  apartment,  and  supply  fresh  glasses  to  the  guests 
as  the  successive  bottles  make  their  appearance.  To 
each  of  these  a  history  is  attached,  and  the  vintage,  the 
date  of  importation,  &c.,  are  all  duly  detailed;  then 
come  the  criticisms  of  the  company,  and  as  each  bot- 
tle produced  contains  wine  of  a  different  quality  from 
its  predecessor,  there  is  no  chance  of  the  topic  being 
exhausted.  At  length,  having  made  the  complete 
tour  of  the  cellar,  proceeding  progressively  from  the 
commoner  wines  to  those  of  finest  flavour,  the  party 
adjourns  to  the  drawing-room,  and,  after  coffee,  each 
guest  takes  his  departure  without  ceremony  of  any 
kind. 

It  would  be  most  ungrateful  were  I  not  to  declare, 
that  I  have  frequently  found  these  dinner  parties  ex- 
tremely pleasant.  I  admit  that  there  is  a  plainness  and 
even  bluntness  in  American  manners,  somewhat  start- 
ling  at  first  to  &  sophisticated  European.  Questions 
are  asked  with  regard  to  one's  habits,  family,  pursuits, 
connexions,  and  opinions,  which  are  never  put  in  Eng- 
land, except  in  a  witness  box,  after  the  ceremony  of 
swearing  on  the  four  Evangelists.  But  this  is  done 
with  the  most  perfect  bohomie,  and  evidently  without 
the  smallest  conception,  that  such  examination  can  pos- 
sibly be  offensive  to  the  patient.  It  is  scarcely  fair  to 
judge  one  nation  by  the  conventional  standard  of  ano- 
ther; and  travellers  who  are  tolerant  enough  of  the  pe- 
culiarities of  their  continental  neighbours,  ought  in 
justice,  perhaps,  to  make  more  allowance  than  they 
have  yet  done,  for  those  of  Brother  Jonathan.  Such 
questions,  no  doubt,  would  be  sheer  impertinence  in 
an  Englishman,  because,  in  putting  them,  he  could  not 
but  be  aware,  that  he  was  violating  the  established 
courtesies  of  society.  They  are  not  so  in  an  American, 
because  he  has  been  brought  up  with  different  ideas, 
and  under  a  social  regime  more  tolerant  of  individual 
curiosity,  than  is  held  in  Europe  to  be  compatible  with 


72  OBSERVATIONS  ON  MANNERS. 

good  manners.  Yet,  after  all,  it  must  be  owned,  that 
it  is  not  always  pleasant,  to  feel  yourself  the  object  of 
a  scrutiny,  often  somewhat  coarsely  conducted,  and 
generally  too  apparent  to  be  mistaken.  I  do  assert, 
however,  that  in  no  other  country  I  have  ever  visited, 
are  the  charities  of  life  so  readily  and  so  profusely 
opened  to  a  stranger  as  in  the  United  States.  In  no 
other  country  will  he  receive  attentions  so  perfectly 
disinterested  and  benevolent;  and  in  none,  when  he 
seeks  acquaintances,  is  it  so  probable  that  he  will  find 
friends. 

It  has  been  often  said, — indeed  said  so  often  as  to 
have  passed  into  a  popular  apophthegm,  that  a  strong 
prejudice  against  Englishmen  exists  in  America. 
Looking  back  on  the  whole  course  of  my  experience 
in  that  country,  I  now  declare,  that  no  assertion  more 
utterly  adverse  to  truth,  was  ever  palmed  by  prejudice 
or  ignorance,  on  vulgar  credulity.  That  a  prejudice 
exists,  I  admit,  but  instead  of  being  against  English- 
men, as  compared  with  the  natives  of  other  countries, 
it  is  a  prejudice  in  their  favour.  The  Americans  do 
not  weigh  the  merits  of  their  foreign  visiters  in  an 
equal  balance.  They  are  only  too  apt  to  throw  their 
own  partialities  into  the  scale  of  the  Englishman,  and 
give  it  a  preponderance  to  which  the  claims  of  the  in- 
dividual have  probably  no  pretensions. 

I  beg,  however,  to  be  understood.  Of  the  vast  mul- 
titude of  English  whom  the  extensive  commercial  in- 
tercourse between  the  countries  draws  to  the  United 
States,  few,  indeed,  are  persons  of  liberal  acquirement, 
or  who  have  been  accustomed  to  mix  in  good  society  in 
their  own  country.  Coming  to  the  United  States  on 
the  pursuits  of  business,  they  are,  of  course,  left  to  the 
attentions  of  those  gentlemen  with  whom  their  profes- 
sional relations  bring  them  more  particularly  in  con- 
tact. Admitting,  for  argument's  sake,  that  all  those 
persons  were  entirely  unexceptionable  both  in  manners 
and  morals,  their  mere  number,  which  is  very  great, 
would,  in  itself,  operate  as  an  exclusion.  That  they 
are  hospitably  received,  I  have  no  doubt,  nor  have  I 
any  that  they  meet  with  every  attention  and  facility 
which  commercial  men  can  expect  in  a  commercial 
community. 


FEELING  TOWARDS  THE  ENGLISH.  73 

But  when  an  English  gentleman,  actuated  by  mo- 
tives of  liberal  curiosity,  visits  their  country,  he  is  re- 
ceived in  a  different  manner,  and  with  very  different 
feeling.  Once  assured  of  his  respectability,  he  is  ad- 
mitted freely  into  society,  and  I  again  assert,  that  he 
will  meet  a  benevolent  interest  in  promoting  his  views, 
which  a  traveller  may  in  vain  look  for  in  other  coun- 
tries. I  should  be  wrong  in  saying,  however,  that  all 
this  takes  place  without  some  scrutiny.  Of  whatever 
solecisms  of  deportment  they  are  themselves  guilty,  the 
Americans  are  admirable,  and,  perhaps,  not  very  le- 
•nient  judges  of  manners  in  others.  They  are  quite 
aware  of  high  breeding  when  they  see  it,  and  draw 
conclusions  with  regard  to  the  pretensions  of  their 
guests  from  a  thousand  small  circumstances,  apparent 
only  to  very  acute  observation.  With  them,  vulgar 
audacity  will  not  pass  for  polished  ease;  nor  will  fa- 
shionable exterior  be  received  for  more  than  it  is  worth. 
I  know  of  no  country  in  which  an  impostor  would  have 
a  more  difficult  game  to  play  in  the  prosecution  of  his 
craft,  and  should  consider  him  an  accomplished  de- 
ceiver, were  he  able  to  escape  detection  amid  observa- 
tion so  vigilant  and  acute. 

In  admitting  that  the  standard  of  manners  in  the 
United  States  is  somewhat  lower  than  in  England,  I 
wish  to  be  understood  as  speaking  exclusively  of  the 
higher  circles  in  the  latter  country.  I  am  not  aware, 
that  bating  a  few  peculiarities,  the  manners  of  the 
first-rate  merchants  of  New  York,  are  at  all  inferior 
to  those  either  of  Liverpool  or  any  other  of  our  great 
commercial  cities.  I  am  certain  that  they  are  not  in- 
ferior to  any  merchants  in  the  world,  in  extent  of  prac- 
tical information,  in  liberality  of  sentiment,  and  gene- 
rosity of  character.  Most  of  them  have  been  in  Eng- 
land, and  from  actual  observation  have  formed  notions 
of  our  national  character  and  advantages,  very  diffe- 
rent from  the  crude  and  ignorant  opinions,  which,  I 
must  say,  are  entertained  by  the  great  body  of  their 
countrymen.  Were  it  admissible  to  form  general  con- 
clusions of  the  American  character,  from  that  of  the 
best  circle  in  the  greater  Atlantic  cities  of  the  Union, 
the  estimate  would  be  high  indeed. 

10 


54  MORALS  OF  THE  TRADERS. 

Unfortunately,  however,  the  conclusions  drawn  from 
premises  so  narrow,  would  be  sadly  erroneous.  The 
observations  already  made  are  applicable  only  to  a 
very  small  portion  of  the  population,  composed  almost 
entirely  of  the  first-rate  merchants  and  lawyers.  Be- 
yond that,  there  is  a  sad  change  for  the  worse.  Nei- 
ther in  the  manners  nor  in  the  morals  of  the  great 
body  of  traders,  is  there  much  to  draw  approbation 
from  an  impartial  observer.  Comparing  them  with  the 
same  classes  in  England,  one  cannot  but  be  struck  with 
a  certain  resolute  and  obtrusive  cupidity  of  gain,  and 
a  laxity  of  principle  as  to  the  means  of  acquiring  it,* 
•Which  I  should  be  sorry  to  believe  formed  any  part  of 
the  character  of  my  countrymen.  I  have  heard  con- 
duct praised  in  conversation  at  a  public  table,  which, 
in  England,  would  be  attended,  if  not  with  a  voyage 
to  Botany  Bay,  at  least  with  total  loss  of  character.  It 
is  impossible  to  pass  an  hour  in  the  bar  of  the  hotel, 
without  being  struck  with  the  tone  of  callous  selfish- 
ness which  pervades  the  conversation,  and  the  absence 
of  all  pretension  to  pure  and  lofty  principle.  The  only 
restraint  upon  these  men  is  the  law,  and  he  is  evident- 
ly considered  the  most  skilful  in  his  vocation  who  con- 
trives to  overreach  his  neighbour,  without  incurring  its 
penalties. 

It  may  probably  be  urged,  that,  in  drawing  these 
harsh  conclusions,  I  judge  ignorantly,  since,  having  no 
professional  connexion  with  trade  or  traders,  I  cannot 
be  supposed  to  know  from  experience  any  thing  of  the 
actual  character  of  their  commercial  transactions.  To 
this,  I  reply,  that  my  judgment  has  been  formed  on 
much  higher  grounds  than  the  experience  of  any  indi- 
vidual could  possibly  afford.  If  I  am  cheated  in  an  af- 
fair of  business,  I  can  appeal  but  to  a  single  case  of 
fraud.  I  can  only  assert  that  a  circumstance  has  hap- 
pened in  America,  which  might  have  happened  in  any 
country  of  Europe.  But,  when  a  man  publicly  con- 
fesses an  act  of  fraud,  or  applauds  it  in  another,  two 
conclusions  are  fairly  deducible.  First,  that  the  nar- 
rator is  a  person  of  little  principle;  and,  second,  that 
he  believes  his  audience  to  be  no  better  than  himself. 
Assuredly,  no  man  will  confess  any  thing  which  he  ima- 


MOKALS  OF  THE  TRADERS.  75 

gines  may,  by  possibility,  expose  him  to  contempt ;  and 
the  legitimate  deduction  from  such  details  extends,  not 
only  to  the  narrator  of  the  anecdote,  but  to  the  com- 
pany who  received  it  without  sign  of  moral  indigna- 
tion. 

It  may  be  well,  however,  to  explain,  that  the  pre- 
ceding observations  have  not  been  founded  exclusively  on 
the  population  of  New  York.  The  company  in  a  ho- 
tel, is  generally  composed  of  persons  from  all  States  in 
the  Union ;  and  it  may  be,  that  the  standard  of  probity 
is  somewhat  higher  in  this  opulent  and  commercial  city, 
than  in  the  poorer  and  more  remote  settlements.  For 
the  last  three  weeks  I  have  been  daily  thrown  into  the 
company  of  about  one  hundred  individuals,  fortuitously 
collected.  A  considerable  portion  of  these  are  daily 
changing,  and  it  is  perhaps  not  too  much  to  assume 
that,  as  a  whole,  they  afford  a  fair  average  specimen 
of  their  class.  Without,  therefore,  wishing  to  lead  the 
reader  to  any  hasty  or  exaggerated  conclusion,  I  must, 
in  candour,  state,  that  the  result  of  my  observations  has 
been  to  lower  considerably  the  high  estimate  I  had 
formed  of  the  moral  character  of  the  American  people. 

Though  I  have\mquestionably  met  in  New  York  with 
many  most  intelligent  and  accomplished  gentlemen,  still, 
I  think  the  fact  cannot  be  denied,  that  the  average  of 
acquirement  resulting  from  education  is  a  good  deal 
lower  in  this  country  than  in  the  better  circles  of  Eng- 
land. In  all  the  knowledge  which  must  be  taught,  and 
which  requires  laborious  study  for  its  attainment,  I 
should  say  the  Americans  are  considerably  inferior  to 
my  countrymen.  In  that  knowledge,  on  the  other  hand, 
which  the  individual  acquires  for  himself  by  actual  ob- 
servation, which  bears  an  immediate  marketable  value, 
and  is  directly  available  in  the  ordinary  avocations  of 
life,  I  do  not  imagine  the  Americans  are  excelled  by  any 
people  in  the  world.  They  are,  consequently,  better 
fitted  for  analytic  than  synthetic  reasoning.  In  the 
former  process  they  are  frequently  successful.  In  the 
latter,  their  failure  sometimes  approaches  to  the  lu- 
dicrous. 

Another  result  of  this  condition  of  intelligence  is,  that 
the  tone  even  of  the  best  conversation  is  pitched  in  3 


76  HEREDITARY  OPINIONS. 

lower  key  than  in  England.  The  speakers  evidently 
presume  on  an  inferior  degree  of  acquirement  in  their 
audience,  and,  frequently,  deem  it  necessary  to  advance 
deliberate  proof  of  matters,  which,  in  the  old  country, 
would  be  taken  for  granted.  There  is  certainly  less  of 
what  may  be  called  floating  intellect  in  conversation. 
First  principles  are  laboriously  established,  and  long 
trains  of  reasoning  terminate,  not  in  paradox,  but  in 
common-place.  In  short,  whatever  it  is  the  obvious  and 
immediate  interest  of  Americans  to  know,  is  fully  un- 
derstood. Whatever  is  available,  rather  in  the  general 
elevation  of  the  intellect,  than  in  the  promotion  of  indi- 
vidual ambition,  engrosses  but  a  small  share  of  the  pub- 
lic attention. 

In  the  United  States  one  is  struck  with  the  fact,  that 
there  exist  certain  doctrines  and  opinions  which  have 
descended  like  heir-looms  from  generation  to  generation, 
and  seem  to  form  the  subject  of  a  sort  of  national  entail, 
most  felicitously  contrived  to  check  the  natural  tendency 
to  intellectual  advancement  in  the  inheritors.  The  sons 
succeed  to  these  opinions  of  their  father,  precisely  as 
they  do  to  his  silver  salvers,  or  gold-headed  cane ;  and 
thus  do  certain  dogmas,  political  and  religious,  gradually 
acquire  a  sort  of  prescriptive  authority,  and  continue  to 
be  handed  down,  unsubjected  to  the  test  of  philosophi- 
cal examination.  It  is  at  least  partially  attributable 
to  this  cause,  that  the  Americans  are  given  to  deal 
somewhat  too  extensively  in  broad  and  sweeping  aphor- 
isms. The  most  difficult  problems  of  legislation  are  here 
treated  as  matters  on  which  it  were  an  insult  on  the 
understanding  of  a  school-boy,  to  suppose  that  he  could 
entertain  a  doubt.  Inquire  their  reasons  for  the  inbred 
faith,  of  which  they  are  the  dark,  though  vehement 
apostles,  and  you  get  nothing  but  a  few  shallow  truisms, 
which  absolutely  afibrd  no  footing  for  the  conclusions 
they  are  brought  forward  to  establish.  The  Americans 
seem  so  imagine  themselves  imbued  with  the  power  of 
feeling  truth,  or,  rather,  of  getting  at  it  by  intuition,  for 
by  no  other  process  can  I  yet  discover  that  they  attempt 
its  attainment.  With  the  commoner  and  more  vulgar 
truths,  indeed,  1  should  almost  pronounce  them  too 
plentifully  stocked,  since  in  these,  they  seem  to  imagine, 


EMBARK  FOR  PROVIDENCE.  77 

is  contained  the  whole  valuable  essence  of  human  know- 
ledge. It  is  unquestionable,  that  this  character  of  mind 
is  most  unfavourable  to  national  advancement;  yet  it  is 
too  prominent  not  to  find  a  place  among  the  features 
which  distinguish  the  American  intellect  from  that  of 
any  other  people  with  whom  it  has  been  my  fortune  to 
become  acquainted. 

To-morrow  it  is  my  intention  to  proceed  to  Boston :  I 
shall  leave  the  public  establishments,  &c.  of  New  York 
unvisited  till  my  return ;  being  anxious,  during  the  first 
period  of  my  residence,  to  confine  my  attention  to  the 
more  prominent  and  general  features  which  distinguish 
this  interesting  community. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


VOYAGE PROVIDENCE — BOSTON. 

N 

AT  four  o'clock,  p.  M.  on  the  8th  of  December,  I 
embarked  on  board  the  steam-boat  Chancellor  Living- 
ston, and,  in  a  few  minutes,  the  vessel  was  under 
weigh.  Her  course  lay  up  the  East  river,  and  along 
the  channel  which  divides  Long  Island  from  the  main- 
land. I  had  heard  much  of  a  certain  dangerous  strait, 
called  Hell  Gate,  formed  by  the  projection  of  huge 
masses  of  rock,  which  obstruct  the  passage  of  the  ri- 
ver, and  diverting  the  natural  course  of  the  current, 
send  its  waters  spinning  round  in  formidable  eddies 
and  whirlpools.  At  high  water — as  it  happened  to  be 
when  we  passed  it — this  said  portal  had  no  very  fright- 
ful aspect.  The  stream  was  rapid,  to  be  sure,  but  a 
double  engine  of  ninety  horse  power  was  more  than  a 
match  for  it;  and  the  Chancellor,  in  spite  of  its  terrors, 
held  on  its  course  rejoicing,  with  little  apparent  dimi- 
nution of  velocity.  Vessels,  however,  have  been 
wrecked  here,  and  a  canal  is  spoken  of,  by  which  its 
dangers  may  be  avoided. 

The  accommodations  on  board  were  such,  as  to  leave 


78  VOYAGE  TO  PROVIDENCE. 

the  most  querulous  traveller,  no  excuse  for  grumbling. 
The  cabin,  to  be  sure,  with  two  huge  red-hot  stoves  in 
it,  was  of  a  temperature  which  a  salamander  must 
have  admired  exceedingly,  but  the  atmosphere,  com- 
posed of  the  discarded  breath  of  about  a  hundred  pas- 
sengers, still  retained  a  sufficient  portion  of  oxygen  to 
support  life.  The  hour  of  tea  came,  and  all  the  appe- 
tite on  board  was  mustered  on  the  occasion.  The  meal 
passed  speedily  as  heart  could  desire;  but  the  mingled 
odour  of  fish,  onions,  and  grease,  was  somewhat  more 
permanent.  Whether  it  improved  the  atmosphere,  or 
not,  is  a  point  which  I  could  not  settle  to  my  own  satis- 
faction at  the  time,  and  must  now,  I  fear,  remain  for 
ever  undecided. 

It  was  impossible,  in  such  circumstances,  to  think  of 
bed.  The  very  thought  of  blankets  was  distressing.  I 
had  no  book;  and  as  for  conversation,  I  could  hear  none 
in  which  I  was  at  all  qualified  to  bear  a  part.  I  there- 
fore ordered  my  writing-box,  adjusted  a  new  Bramah, 
and  of  the  words  that  flowed  from  it,  he  that  has  read 
the  preceding  pages  is  already  in  possession. 

If  I  wrote  in  bad  humour  there  was  really  some 'ex- 
cuse for  it.  Close  to  my  right  were  two  loud  polemics, 
engaged  in  fierce  dispute  on  the  Tariff  bill.  On  my 
left-  was  an  elderly  gentleman,  without  shoes  or  slippers, 
whose  cough  and  expectoration  were  somewhat  less 
melodious  than  the  music  of  the  spheres.  In  the  berth 
immediately  behind,  lay  a  passenger,  whose  loud  snoring 
proclaimed  him  as  happy  as  a  complete  oblivion  of  all 
worldly  cares  could  make  him.  Right  opposite  was  a 
gentleman  without  breeches,  who,  before  jumping  into 
bed,  was  detailing  to  a  friend  the  particulars  of  a  lucky 
bit  he  had  just  made  in  a  speculation  in  train  oil.  And 
beside  me,  at  the  table,  sat  a  Baptist  clergyman,  read- 
ing, sotto  vo.ce,  a  chapter  of  Ezekiel,  and  casting,  at  the 
conclusion  of  each  verse,  a  glance  of  furtive  curiosity 
at  my  paper. 

It  may  be  admitted,  that  such  are  not  the  items  which 
go  to  the  compounding  of  a  paradise.  But  the  enjoy- 
ment of  travelling,  like  other  pleasures,  must  be  pur- 
chased at  some  little  expense;  and  he  whose  good-hu- 
«nour  can  be  ruffled  by  every  petty  inconvenience  he 


IRISH  STEWARD.  79 

may  chance  to  encounter,  had  unquestionably  better 
remain  at  home.  For  myself,  I  beg  it  therefore  to  be 
understood,  that  in  detailing  the  petty  and  transient  an- 
noyances connected  with  my  journey,  I  do  so,  not  as 
matters  by  which  my  tranquillity  was  materially  affect- 
ed, but  as  delineations  naturally  belonging  to  a  picture 
of  Society,  and  without  which  it  would  be  incomplete. 
A  tourist  in  the  United  States,  will  find  no  occasion  for 
the  ardour,  the  perseverance,  or  the  iron  constitution  of 
a  Lander;  and  yet  he  will  do  well  to  remember,  that 
travellers,  like  players  at  bowls,  must  occasionally  ex- 
pect rubbers. 

But  I  have  dwelt  too  much  on  the  disagreeables  of 
the  voyage,  without  giving  the  per  contra  side  of  the  ac- 
count. There  was  a  fair  breeze  and  a  smooth  sea;  and 
an  Irish  steward,  who  was  particularly  active  in  my 
behalf,  and  made  my  berth  very  comfortable,  by  the 
fraudulent  abstraction  of  sundry  pillows  from  those  of 
my  American  neighbours.  This  he  has  done — he  told 
my  servant  so — because  I  am  from  the  old  country;  and 
yet  one  would  suppose,  that  on  such  a  .man  the  claim 
of  mere  national  affinity  could  have  little  influence.  I 
talked  a  good  deal  with  him  about  his  former  circum- 
stances, and  soon  collected,  that  what  is  called  living  in 
Ireland,  is  usually  entitled  starving  in  other  countries. 
Though  rather  chary  of  confession,  I  gathered,  too,  that 
the  world  was  not  his  friend,  nor  the  world's  laws,  and 
that  he  came  to  the  United  States  to  avoid  a  jail,  and 
without  a  shilling  in  his  pocket.  The  day  on  which  he 
left  Ireland  should  be  marked  in  his  annals  with  a  white 
stone.  He  now  enjoys  a  comfortable  situation — con- 
fesses he  can  save  money;  eats  and  drinks  well;  is  en- 
cased in  warm  clothing ;  is  troubled  very  little  with  the 
tax-gatherer,  and  not  at  all  with  the  tithe-proctor. 
And  what  is  there  in  the  countenance  of  an  English- 
man, that  it  should  excite  in  such  a  man  the  feeling  of 
benevolence  and  kindred  ?  In  his  memory,  one  would 
suppose,  the  past  would  be  linked  only  with  suffering, 
while  the  present  is  undoubtedly  associated  with  the 
experience  of  a  thousand  comforts,  to  which,  in  his  days 
of  vassalage  and  white-boyism,  his  imagination  never 
ventured  to  soar.  Yet,  believe  the  man,  and  he  regrets 


80  ARRIVAL  AT  PROVIDENCE. 

having  left  home !  He  thinks  he  could  have  done  as 
well  in  Ireland.  He  has  no  fault  to  find  with  America 
— it  is  a  good  country,  enough  for  a  poor  man.  Whis- 
key is  cheaper  here,  and  so  is  bread  and  mate ;  but 
then  his  ould  mother, — and  his  sisters, — and  Tim  Regan, 
he  would  like  to  see  them  again ;  and,  please  God,  if  he 
ever  can  afford  it,  he  will  return,  and  have  his  bones 
laid  in  the  same  church-yard  with  theirs. 

But  if  Pat  ever  get  back  to  Ireland,  I  venture  to  pro- 
phesy that  his  stay  will  not  be  long  there.  At  present, 
his  former  privations  are  more  than  half- forgotten;  but 
let  him  once  again  encounter  them,  and  the  difference 
between  the  country  of  his  birth  and  that  of  his  adop- 
tion, will  become  more  apparent  than  argument  could 
now  make  it.  On  the  whole,  it  was  pleasing  to  observe, 
that  while  time  and  distance  obliterate  the  misfortunes 
of  life,  their  tendency  is  to  strengthen  its  charities. 

On  the  following  morning,  about  eleven  o'clock,  we 
reached  Providence,  and  found  eight  or  ten  stage- 
coaches waiting  on  the  quay  to  convey  the  passengers 
to  Boston.  Though  I  carried  letters  of  introduction  to 
several  gentleman  in  Providence,  it  had  not  been  my 
intention  to  remain  there,  and  I  had  accordingly,  before 
landing,  secured  places  in  one  of  these  vehicles.  But 
in  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  scrambling  for  seats  and 
coaches,  and  with  the  sight  of  eight  large  human  beings 
already  cooped  up  in  that  by  which  I  must  have  tra- 
velled, I  began  to  waver  in  my  resolution,  and  at  length 
resolved  to  sacrifice  the  money  1  had  paid,  and  take  the 
chances  of  better  accommodation,  and  a  more  agreea- 
ble party,  on  the  day  following.  Besides,  the  weather 
was  raw  and  gusty,  and  I  had  been  drenched  from  the 
knee  downward  in  wading  through  the  masses  of  half- 
melted  snow,  which  covered  the  landing-place.  The 
idea,  therefore,  of  a  comfortable  Providence  hotel,  na- 
turally found  more  favour  in  my  imagination,  than  an 
eight  hours'  journey  to  Boston,  in  such  weather,  such 
company,  and  such  conveyance  as  I  could  reasonably 
anticipate. 

On  reaching  the  hostelry,  however,  its  external  ap- 
pearance was  far  from  captivating.  There  was  no 
sign-board,  nor  did  the  house  display  any  external  sym- 


APPEARANCE  OF  THE  TOWN.  81 

bol  of  the  hospitality  within.  Below  was  a  range  of 
shops,  and  the  only  approach  was  by  a  narrow  stair, 
which  might  have  passed  for  clean  in  Rome,  but  would 
have  been  considered  dirty  in  England.  On  entering, 
I  stood  for  some  time  in  the  passage,  and  though  [  in- 
quired at  several  members  of  the  establishment,  who 
brushed  past  me,  whether  I  could  have  accommodation, 
no  answer  was  vouchsafed.  At  length,  advancing  to 
the  bar,  I  observed  the  landlord,  who'  was  evidently  too 
busily  engaged  in  mixing  brandy  and  water  for  a  party 
of  smokers,  to  have  any  attention  to  bestow  on  a  stranger 
like  myself.  I  therefore,  addressed  a  woman  whom  I 
observed  to  look  towards  me  with  something  of  cold  in- 
quiry in  her  expression,  and  again  begged  to  know  whe- 
ther I  could  be  accommodated  for  the  night.  The  quesj 
tion  was  not  more  fortunate  than  its  predecessors  in 
drawing  forth  a  response,  nor  was  it  till  some  minutes 
had  elapsed,  that,  during  a  fortunate  intermission  of 
the  demand  for  spirits,  my  inquiries  were  at  length  at- 
tended to,  and  satisfactorily  answered.  Matters  now 
went  on  more  promisingly.  I  found  that  I  could  not 
only  be  supplied,  with  every  thing  within  the  scope  of 
reasonable  expectation,  but  with  a  luxury  I  had  not 
ventured  to  anticipate,- — a  private  parlour,  communi- 
cating with  a  very  comfortable  bed-room,  and  accom- 
panied with  the  privilege  of  commanding  my  own 
hours. 

Having  changed  my  dress,  and  given  a  few  directions 
about  dinner,  I  sallied  forth  to  view  the  city.  Provi- 
dence is  the  capital  of  the  State  of  Rhode  Island,  and 
contains  about  25,000  inhabitants.  It  stands  at  the  foot 
and  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  which  commands  a  complete 
view  of  the  fine  bay.  The  great  majority  of  the  houses 
are  built  of  wood,  interspersed,  however,  with  tene- 
ments of  brick,  and  a  few  which  are  at  least  fronted 
with  stone.  It  contains  considerable  cotton  manufacto- 
ries, which—boasting  no  knowledge  of  such  matters — 
I  was  not  tempted  to  visit.  The  college  appears  a 
building  of  some  extent,  and  is  finely  situated  on  the 
summit  of  a  neighbouring  height.  The  roads  were  sa 
obstructed  by  snow,  as  to  render  climbing  the  ascent  a 
matter  of  more  difficulty  than  I  was  in  the  humour  to 

11 


82  BUILDINGS  IN  PROVIDENCE. 

encounter;  and  so  it  was  decreed,  that  Brown's  College 
should  remain  by  me  unvisited. 

The  first  settlement  of  Providence  is  connected  with 
a  melancholy  instance  of  human  inconsistency.  The 
Pilgrim  Fathers,  as  they  are  called,  had  left  their  coun- 
try to  find  in  the  wilds  of  the  New  World  that  religious 
toleration  which  had  been  denied  them  in  the  Old.  But 
no  sooner  had  these  victims  of  persecution  established 
themselves  in  New  England,  than,  in  direct  and  flagrant 
violation,  not  only  of  all  moral  consistency,  but  of  the 
whole  scope  and  spirit  of  the  Christian  religion,  they 
became  persecutors  in  their  turn.  Socinians  and  Qua- 
kers— all,  in  short,  who  differed  from  them  in  opinion, 
were  driven  forth  with  outrage  and  violence.  Among 
the  number  was  Roger  Williams,  a  Puritan  clergyman, 
who  ventured  to  expose  what  he  considered  "  evidence 
of  backsliding  "  in  the  churches  of  Massachusetts.  The 
clergy  at  first  endeavoured  to  put  him  down  by  argu- 
ment and  remonstrance ;  the  attempt  failed,  and  it  was 
then  determined  that  the  civil  authority  should  free  the 
orthodox  population  from  the  dangerous  presence  of  so 
able  and  sturdy  a  polemic.  Roger  Williams  was  ba- 
nished, and,  followed  by  a  few  of  his  people,  continued 
to  wander  in  the  wilderness,  till,  coming  to  a  place 
called  by  the  Indians  Mooshausic,  he  there  pitched  his 
tabernacle,  and  named  it  Providence. 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  circumstances  connected  with 
the  first  establishment  of  the  State  of  Rhode  Island.  The 
light  in  which  they  exhibit  human  nature  is  not  flatter- 
ing ;  yet  they  only  afford  another  proof,  if  such  were 
wanted,  of  the  natural  connexion  between  bigotry  and 
persecution,  and  that  the  victims  of  political  or  religious 
oppression,  too  often  want  only  the  power  to  become  its 
ministers. 

The  only  building  which  makes  any  pretension  to  ar- 
chitectural display  is  the  arcade,  faced  at  either  extre- 
mity with  an  Ionic  portico.  Judging  by  the  eye,  the 
shaft  of  the  columns  is  in  the  proportion  of  the  Grecian 
Doric,  an  order  beautiful  in  itself,  but  which,  of  course, 
is  utterly  barbarized  by  an  Ionic  entablature.  By  the 
way,  I  know  not  any  thing  in  which  the  absence  of 
taste  in  America  is  more  signally  displayed  than  in  their 


RAISING  A  HOUSE.  83 

architecture.  The  country  residences  of  the  wealthier 
citizens  are  generally  adorned  with  pillars,  which  often 
extend  from  the  basement  to  the  very  top  of  the  house, 
(some  three  or  four  stories,)  supporting,  and  pretending 
to  support,  nothing.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  pro- 
portions of  these  columns  are  very  much  those  of  the 
stock  of  a  tobacco-pipe,  and  it  is  difficult  to  conceive 
any  thing  more  unsightly.  Even  in  the  public  buildings, 
there  is  often  an  obtrusive  disregard  of  every  recognised 
principle  of  proportion,  and  clamorous  demands  are 
made  on  the  admiration  of  foreigners,  in  behalf  of  build- 
ings which  it  is  impossible  to  look  upon  without  instant 
and  unhesitating  condemnation. 

In  a  sea-port  one  generally  takes  a  glance  at  the 
harbour,  to  draw  some  conclusions,  however  uncertain, 
with  regard  to  the  traffic  of  the  place.  The  guide- 
books declare,  that  Providence  has  a  good  deal  of  fo- 
reign commerce.  It  may  be  so,  but  in  the  bay  I  could 
only  count  two  square-rigged  vessels,  and  something 
under  a  score  of  sloops  and  schooners. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention,  having  witnessed  to-day 
the  progress  of  an  operation  somewhat  singular  in  cha- 
racter. This  was  nothing  less  than  raising  a  large  tene- 
ment, for  the  purpose  of  introducing  another  story  below. 
The  building  was  of  frame-work,  with  chimneys  of 
brick,  and  consisted  of  two  houses  connected  by  the  ga- 
ble. The  lower  part  of  one  was  occupied  as  a  ware- 
house, which  seemed  well  filled  with  casks  and  cotton- 
bags.  I  stood  for  some  time  to  observe  the  progress  of 
the  work.  The  process  adopted  was  this :  The  building 
was  first  raised  by  means  of  a  succession  of  wedges  in- 
serted below  the  foundation.  Having  thus  gained  the 
requisite  elevation,  it  was  maintained  there  by  supports 
at  each  corner,  and  by  means  of  screws  pressing  laterally 
on  the  timbers.  At  the  time  I  saw  it,  the  building  had 
been  raised  about  five  feet  into  the  air,  and  the  only 
mode  of  ingress  or  egress  was  by  ladders.  On  looking 
with  some  curiosity  at  the  windows,  I  soon  gathered 
enough  to  convince  me  that  the  inhabitants  were  en- 
gaged in  their  usual  domestic  a  vocations,  without  being  at 
all  disturbed  by  their  novel  position  in  the  atmosphere. 
As  for  the  ware-house,  the  business  of  buying  and  selling 
had  apparently  encountered  no  interruption.  On  the 


84  DINNER  AT  THE  HOTEL. 

whole,  the  operation,  though  simple,  struck  me  as  dis- 
playing a  very  considerable  degree  of  mechanical  inge- 
nuity. 

Having  finished  my  ramble,  I  returned  to  the  inn; 
where  a  very  tolerable  dinner  awaited  my  appearance. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  had  dined  alone  since  leaving 
England,  and,  like  my  countrymen  generally,  I  am 
disposed  to  attach  considerable  importance  to  the  pri- 
vilege of  choosing  my  dinner,  and  the  hour  of  eating 
it.  It  is  only  when  alone  that  one  enjoys  the  satisfac- 
tion of  feeling  that  he  is  a  distinct  unit  in  creation,  a 
being  totus,  teres,  atque  rotundus.  At  a  public  or- 
dinary, he  is  but  a  fraction,  a  decimal,  at  most,  but, 
very  probably,  a  centesimal  of  a  huge  masticating  mon- 
ster, with  the  appetite  of  a  Mastedon  or  a  Behemoth. 
He  labours  under  the  conviction,  that  his  meal  has  lost 
in  dignity  what  it  has  gained  in  profusion.  He  is  con- 
torted involuntarily  with  people  to  whom  he  is  bound 
by  no  tie  but  that  of  temporary  necessity,  and,  with 
whom,  except  the  immediate  impulse  of  brutal  appe- 
tite, he  has  probably  nothing  in  common.  A  man, 
like  an  American,  thus  diurnally  mortified  and  abased 
from  his  youth  upwards,  of  course  knows  nothing  of 
the  high  thoughts  which  visit  the  imagination  of  the 
solitary,  who,  having  finished  a  good  dinner,  reposes 
with  a  full  consciousness  of  the  dignity  of  his  nature, 
and  the  high  destinies  to  which  he  is  called.  The  si- 
tuation is  one  which  naturally  stimulates  the  whole 
inert  mass  of  his  speculative  benevolence.  He  is  at 
peace  with  all  mankind,  for  he  reclines  on  a  well- 
stuffed  sofa,  and  there  are  wine  and  walnuts  on  the  ta- 
ble. He  is  on  the  best  terms  with  himself,  and  recalls 
his  own  achievements  in  arms,  literature,  or  philoso- 
phy, in  a  spirit  of  the  most  benign  complacency.  If 
he  look  to  the  future,  the  prospect  is  bright  and  un- 
clouded. If  he  revert  to  the  past,  its  lt  written  trou- 
bles," its  failures  and  misfortunes  are  erased  from  the 
volume,  and^his  memories  are  exclusively  those  of  gra- 
tified power.  He  is  in  his  slippers,  and  comfortable 
robe-de-chetmbre,  and  what  to  him,  at  such  a  moment, 
are  the  world  and  its  ambitions?  I  appeal  to  the  phi- 
losopher, and  he  answers — Nothing! 

It  was  in  such  condition  of  enjoyment,  physical  an.d 


RENCONTRE  WITH  CAPTAIN  BENNET.      §5 

intellectual,  that  I  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
my  servant,  to  inform  me  that  he  had  just  met  Captain 
Bennet  on  the  stair,  who,  learning  that  I  was  at  din- 
ner, had  obligingly  expressed  his  intention  of  favour- 
ing me  with  a  visit  at  the  conclusion  of  my  meal.  I 
immediately  returned  assurance,  that  nothing  could  af- 
ford me  greater  pleasure;  and  in  a  few  minutes  I  had 
the  satisfaction  of  exchanging  a  friendly  grasp  with 
this  kind  and  intelligent  sailor.  In  the  course  of  our 
tete-&-tete,  he  informed  me  that  he  was  travelling  from 
his  native  town,  New  Bedford,  to  Boston,  in  company 
with  Mrs.  Bennet,  to  whom  he  was  good  enough  to  of- 
fer me  the  privilege  of  an  introduction.  I  accordingly  ac- 
companied the  Captain  to  his  apartment,  where  I  passed 
a  pleasant  evening,  and  retired,  gratified  by  the  intelli- 
gence that  they  were  to  proceed  on  the  following  morn- 
ing by  the  same  vehicle  in  which  I  had  already  se- 
cured places.  To  travel  with  Captain  Bennet,  was,  in 
truth,  not  only  a  pleasure,  but  an  advantage,  for,  being 
a  New  Englander,  he  was  enabled,  in  the  course  of 
-our  journey,  to  communicate  many  particulars  with  re- 
gard to  his  native  province,  which,  though  most  useful 
in  directing  the  opinions  of  a  traveller,  could  scarcely, 
perhaps,  have  fallen  within  the  immediate  sphere  of  his 
-observations. 

On  the  following  morning  we  were  afoot  betimes, 
and,  after  a  tolerable  breakfast  at  a  most  unchristian 
hour,  left  Providence  at  seven  o'clock,  and  I  enjoyed 

my  first  introduction  to  an  American  stage-coach 

Though  what  an  Englishman  accustomed  to  the  luxu- 
ries of  "  light-post  coaches,"  and  Macadamised  roads, 
might  not  unreasonably  consider  a  wretched  vehicle, 
the  one  in  question  was  not  so  utterly  abominable  as 
to  leave  a  Frenchman  or  an  Italian  any  fair  cause  of 
complaint.  It  was  of  ponderous  proportions,  built 
with  timbers,  I  should  think,  about  the  size  of  those 
of  an  ordinary  wagon,  and  was  attached  by  enormous 
straps  to  certain  massive  irons,  which  nothing  in  the 
motion  of  the  carriage  could  induce  the  traveller  to 
mistake  for  springs.  The  sides  of  this  carriage  were 
simply  curtains  of  leather,  which,  when  the  heat  of  the 
weather  is  inconvenient,  can  be  raised  to  admit  a  free 


86  JOURNEY  TO  BOSTON. 

ventilation.  In  winter,  however,  the  advantages  of 
this  contrivance  are  more  than  apocryphal.  The  wind 
penetrates  through  a  hundred  small  crevices,  and  with 
the  thermometer  below  zero,  this  freedom  of  circulation 
is  found  not  to  add  materially  to  the  pleasures  of  a 
journey.  The  complement  of  passengers  inside  was 
nine,  divided  into  three  rows,  the  middle  seat  being 
furnished  with  a  strap,  removable  at  pleasure,  as  a 
back  support  to  the  sitters.  The  driver  also  receives 
a  companion  on  the  box,  and  the  charge  for  this  place 
is  the  same  as  for  those  in  the  interior.  The  whole 
machine,  indeed,  was  exceedingly  clumsy,  yet,  per- 
haps, not  more  so,  than  was  rendered  necessary  by  the 
barbarous  condition  of  the  road  on  which  it  travelled. 
The  horses,  though  not  handsome,  were  strong,  and, 
apparently,  well  adapted  for  their  work,  yet  I  could 
not  help  smiling,  as  I  thought  of  the  impression  the 
whole  set  out  would  be  likely  to  produce  on  an  Eng- 
lish road.  The  flight  of  an  air  balloon  would  create 
far  less  sensation.  If  exhibited  as  a  specimen  of  a  fos- 
sil carriage,  buried  since  the  Deluge,  and  lately  disco- 
vered by  Professor  Buckland,  it  might  pass  without 
question  as  the  family-coach  in  which  Noah  conveyed 
his  establishment  to  the  ark.  Then  the  Jehu!  A  man 
in  rusty  black,  with  the  -appearance  of  a  retired  grave- 
digger.  Never  was  such  a  coachman  seen  within  the 
limits  of  the  four  seas. 

Though  the  distance  is  only  forty  miles,  we  were 
eight  hours  in  getting  to  Boston.  The  road  I  remem- 
ber to  have  set  down  at  the  time  as  the  very  worst  in 
the  world,  an  opinion,  which  my  subsequent  experi- 
ence as  a  traveller  in  the  United  States,  has  long  since 
induced  me  to  retract.  It  abounded  in  deep  ruts,  and 
huge  stones,  which  a  little  exercise  of  the  hammer 
might  have  converted  into  excellent  material.  Eng- 
lish readers  may  smile  when  one  talks  seriously  of  the 
punishment  of  being  jolted  in  a  stage-coach,  but  to  ar- 
rive at  the  end  of  a  journey  with  bruised  flesh  and 
aching  bones,  is,  on  the  whole,  not  particularly  plea- 
sant. For  myself,  I  can  truly  say,  that,  remembering 
all  I  have  occasionally  endured  in  the  matter  of  loco- 
motion on  the  American  continent,  the  martyr  to  simi- 


PAWTUCKET.  87 

lar  sufferings  shall  always  enjoy  my  sincere  sympathy. 
On  the  present  occasion,  to  say  nothing  of  lateral  con- 
cussion, twenty  times  at  least  was  I  pitched  up  with 
violence  against  the  roof  of  the  coach,  which,  being  as 
ill  provided  with  stuffing  as  the  cushions  below,  occa- 
sioned a  few  changes  in  my  phrenological  develop- 
ments. One  of  the  passengers,  however, — a  grave  va- 
letudinarian— assured  me,  that  such  unpleasant  exercise 
was  an  admirable  cure  for  dyspepsia,  and  that  when 
suffering  under  its  attacks,  he  found  an  unfailing  reme- 
dy in  being  jolted  over  some  forty  or  fifty  miles  of 
such  roads  as  that  we  now  travelled.  At  the  moment, 
I  certainly  felt  more  inclined  to  pity  him  for  the  reme- 
dy than  the  disease. 

There  had  been  thaw  during  the  night,  and  the 
greater  part  of  the  snow  had  disappeared.  The  coun- 
try through  which  we  passed  was  prettily  varied  in 
surface,  but  the  soil  was  poor  and  stony,  and  the  ex- 
tent to  which  wood  had  been  suffered  to  grow  on  land 
formerly  subjected  to  the  plough,  showed  it  had  not 
been  found  to  repay  the  cost  of  tillage.  About  four 
miles  from  Providence,  we  passed  the  village  of  Paw- 
tucket  It  is  one  of  the  chief  seats  of  the  cotton  manu- 
facture in  the  United  States.  The  aspect  of  the  place 
was  not  unpleasing,  and  I  counted  about  a  dozen  fac- 
tories of  considerable  size.  The  houses  of  the  work- 
men had  a  clean  and  comfortable  appearance.  I  was 
informed,  however,  by  my  fellow  travellers,  that,  with- 
in the  last  eighteen  months,  every  establishment  in  the 
place  had  become  bankrupt;  a  proof,  1  should  imagine, 
that  the  success  of  the  Tariff  system  has  not  been  very 
brilliant. 

During  our  journey,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  con- 
versation in  the  coach,  in  which,  I  was  physically  too 
uneasy  to  bear  any  considerable  part.  I  was  amused, 
however,  at  the  astonishment  of  a  young  Connecticut 
farmer,  when  Captain  Bennet  informed  him,  that,  in 
England,  the  white  birch-tree — which,  in  this  part  of 
the  world,  is  regarded  as  a  noxious  weed — is  protect- 
ed in  artificial  plantations  with  great  care.  He  was- 
evidently  incredulous,  though  he  had  before  made  no 
difficulty  in  believing  the  numerous  absurdities,  in  law. 


88  ARRIVAL  AT  BOSTON. 

polity,  and  manners  attributed,  whether  with  truth  or 
otherwise,  to  my  countrymen.  But  to  plant  the  white 
birch-tree!  This,  indeed,  was  beyond  the  limits  of 
belief. 

The  road,  as  we  approached  Boston,  lay  through  a 
more  populous  country,  and  we  passed  a  height,  which 
commanded  a  fine  view  of  the  bay.  At  length,  enter- 
ing on  a  long  street,  I  found  myself  again  surrounded 
by  the  busy  hum  of  a  great  city.  The  first  impression 
was  decidedly  favourable.  There  is  in  Boston  less  of 
that  rawness  of  outline,  and  inconsistency  of  architec- 
ture, which  had  struck  me  in  New  York-  The  truth 
is,  that  the  latter  has  increased  so  rapidly,  that  nine- 
tenths  of  the  city  have  been  built  within  the  last  thir- 
ty years,  and  probably  one  half  of  it  within  a  third  of 
the  period.  In  Boston,  both  wealth  and  population 
have  advanced  at  a  slower  pace.  A  comparatively 
small  portion  of  the  city  is  new,  and  the  hand  of  time 
has  somewhat  mellowed  even  its  deformities,  contri- 
buting to  render  that  reverend,  which  was  originally 
rude. 

There  is  an  air  of  gravity  and  solidity  about  Boston; 
and  nothing  gay  or  flashy,  in  the  appearance  of  her 
streets,  or  the  crowd  who  frequent  them.  New  York 
is  a  young  giantess,  weighing  twenty  stone,  and  yet 
frisky  wilhaL  Boston,  the  matron  of  stayed  and  demure 
air,  a  little  past  her  prime,  perhaps,  yet  showing  no 
symptom  of  decay.  The  former  is  brisk,  bustling,  and 
annually  outgrowing  her  petticoats.  The  latter  fat, 
fair,  and  forty,  a  great  breeder,  but  turning  her  chil- 
dren out  of  doors,  as  fast  as  she  produces  them.  But  it 
is  an  old  and  true  apophthegm,  that  similes  seldom  run 
on  all  fours,  and  therefore  it  is  generally  prudent  not 
to  push  them  too  far. 

Most  gratifying  is  it  to  a  traveller  in  the  United 
States,  when,  sick  to  death  of  the  discomforts  of  the 
road,  he  finds  himself  fairly  housed  in  the  Tremont 
Hotel.  The  establishment  is  on  a  large  scale,  and  ad- 
mirably conducted.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  procuring  a 
small  but  very  comfortable  suite  of  apartments,  deficient 
in  nothing  which  a  single  gentleman  could  require. 
What  is  more,  I  enjoyed  the  blessing  of  rational  liberty 


SLAVERY  OF  AMERICANS.  §9 

had  command  of  my  own  hours  and  motions,  in  short, 
could  eat,  drink,  or  sleep,  at  what  time,  in  what  man- 
ner, and  on  what  substances  I  might  prefer. 

The  truth  is,  that  instead  of  being  free,  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  American  people  live  in  a  state  of  the 
most  degrading  bondage.  No  liberty  of  tongue  can  com- 
pensate for  vassalage  of  stomach.  In  their  own  houses, 
perhaps,  they  may  do  as  they  please,  though  I  much 
doubt  whether  any  servants  would  consent  to  live  in  a 
family  who  adopted  the  barbarous  innovation  of  dining 
at  six  o'clock,  and  breakfasting  at  eleven.  Bui  on  the 
road,  and  in  their  hotels,  they  are  assuredly  any  thing 
but  freemen.  Their  hours  of  rest  and  refection  are 
there  dictated  by  Boniface,  the  most  rigorous  and  iron- 
hearted  of  despots.  And  surely  never  was  monarch 
blessed  with  more  patient  and  obedient  subjects !  He 
feeds  them  in  droves  like  cattle.  He  rings  a  bell,  and 
they  come  like  dogs  at  their  master's  whistle.  He 
places  before  them  what  he  thinks  proper,  and  they 
swallow  it  without  grumbling.  His  decrees  are  as  those 
of  fate,  and  the  motto  of  his  establishment  is,  "  Submit 
or  starve." 

No  man  should  travel  in  the  United 'States  without 
one  of  Baraud's  best  chronometers  in  his  fob,  In  no  other 
country  can  a  slight  miscalculation  of  time  be  produc- 
tive of  so  much  mischief.  Wo  to  him  whose  steps  have 
been  delayed  by  pleasure  or  business,  till  the  fatal  hour 
has  elapsed,  and  the  dinner-cloth  been  removed.  If  he 
calculate  on  the  emanation  from  the  kitchen  of  smoking 
chop  or  spatchcock,  he  will  be  grievously  deceived. 
Let  him  not  look  with  contempt  on  half-coagulated 
soup,  or  fragments  of  cold  fish,  or  the  rhomboid  of 
greasy  pork,  which  has  been  reclaimed  from  the  stock- 
barrel  for  his  behoof.  Let  him  accept  in  meekness 
what  is  set  before  him,  or  be  content  to  go  dinnerless 
for  the  day.  Such  are  the  horns  of  the  dilemma,  and 
he  is  free  as  air  to  choose  on  which  he  will  be  im- 
paled.* 

*  It  is  fair,  however,  to  state,  that  in  the  hotels  in  the  greater  ci- 
ties, private  apartments  can  generally  be  obtained.  The  charge  for 
these  is  about  as  high  as  in  London,  and  the  privilege  of  separate 
meals  is  also  to  be  paid  for.  To  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the 

12 


90  THE  STATE-HOUSE. 

On  the  morning  following  my  arrival,  I  despatched 
my  letters  of  introduction,  and  walked  out  to  see  the 
city.  Of  its  appearance,  I  have  already  said  something, 
but  have  yet  a  little  more  to  say.  Boston  stands  on  an 
undulating  surface,  and  is  surrounded  on  three  sides  by 
the  sea.  The  harbour  is  a  magnificent  basin,  encircled 
by  a  beautiful  country,  rising  in  gentle  acclivities,  and 
studded  with  villas.  There  is  nothing  very -handsome 
about  the  town,  which  is  rather  English  in  appearance, 
and  might  in  truth  be  easily  mistaken  for  one  of  our 
more  populous  sea-ports.  A  considerable  number  of  the 
buildings  are  of  granite,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  of 
sienite,  but  brick  is  the  prevailing  material,  and  houses 
of  framework  are  now  rarely  to  be  met  with  in  the 
streets  inhabited  by  the  better  orders.  The  streets  are 
narrow,  and  often  crooked,  yet,  as  already  stated,  they 
exhibit  more  finish  and  cleanliness  than  are  to  be  found 
in  New  York.  In  architecture,  1  could  discover  little 
to  admire.  The  State-house  stands  on  an  eminence 
commanding  the  city;  it  is  a  massive  square  building, 
presenting  in  front  a  piazza  of  rusticated  arches,  sur- 
mounted by  a  gratuitous  range  of  Corinthian  columns, 
which  support  nothing.  The  building  in  front  has  a 
small  attic  with  a  pediment,  and  from  the  centre  rises 
a  dome,  the  summit  of  which  is  crowned  by  a  square 
lantern. 

The  Tremont  hotel,  and  a  church  in  the  same  street, 
are  likewise  pointed  out  to  strangers  as  worthy  of  alt 
the  spare  admiration  at  their  disposal.  The  latter  is  a 
plain  building,  rather  absurdly  garnished,  along  its- 
whole  front,  with  a  row  of  Ionic  columns,  stuck  in  close 

expense  of  such  mode  of  living  in  the  United  States,  I  may  state, 
that  in  New  York,  with  nothing  but  an  inferior  bed-room,  and  living 
at  the  public  table,  the  charge  for  myself  and  servant  was  eighteen 
dollars  a-week.  At  Boston,  with  three  excellent  rooms,  and  the  pri- 
vilege of  private  meals,  it  amounted,  including  every  thing  except 
wine,  to  thirty-five.  At  Philadelphia,  I  paid  twenty-six  dollars;  at 
Baltimore,  twenty-eight;  at  Washington,  forty;  the  extent  of  accom- 
modation nearly  equal  in  all. 

It  is  the  invariable  custom  in  the  United  States,  to  charge  by  the 
day  or  week;  and  travellers  are  thus  obliged  to  pay  for  meals  whether 
they  eat  them  or  not.  For  a  person,  who,  like  myself,  rarely  dined  at 
home,  I  remember  calculating  the  charge  to  be  higher  than  in  Long's, 
or  the  Clarendon. 


KING'S  CHAPEL.  91 

to  the  wall,  which  they  are  far  from  concealing;  and, 
to  increase  the  deformity,  above  these  columns  rises  a 
naked  square  tower,  intended,  I  presume,  for  a  belfry. 

An  anecdote  connected  with  this  place  of  worship, 
however,  is  worth  preserving :  It  was  formerly  called 
the  King's  Chapel,  and  belonged  to  a  congregation 
holding  the  tenets  of  the  Church  of  England.  In  this 
state  of  things  a  rich  old  gentleman  died,  bequeathing, 
by  his  last  testament,  a  considerable  sum,  to  be  expend- 
ed in  defraying  the  charge  of  a  certain  number  of  an- 
nual discourses  "  on  the  Trinity."  The  testator  having 
lived  and  died  in  the  communion  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, of  course  no  doubt  could  be  entertained  of  his  in- 
tention in  the  bequest ;  but  the  revolution  took  place, 
and,  at  the  restoration  of  peace,  the  congregation  of  the 
King's  Chapel  were  found  to  have  cast  off  both  king 
and  creed,  and  become  not  only  Republicans  in  politics, 
but  Unitarians  in  religion.  Under  these  circumstances, 
what  was  to  be  done  with  the  legacy  ?  This  did  not 
long  remain  a  moot  point.  It  was  discovered  that  a 
Unitarian  could  preach  sermons  on  the  Trinity  as  well 
as  the  most  orthodox  Athanasian  that  ever  mounted  a 
pulpit;  and  the  effect  of  the  testator's  zeal  for  the  dif- 
fusion of  pure  faith,  has  been  to  encourage  the  dissemi- 
nation of  doctrines,  which  of  course  he  regarded  as  false 
and  damnable !  The  old  gentleman  had  better  left  his 
money  to  his  relations. 

I  have  been  too  well  satisfied  with  the  good  living  of 
the  Tremont  hotel,  not  to  feel  grieved  to  be  compelled 
to  speak  disparagingly  of  its  architecture.  I  beg  to  say, 
however,  that  I  allude  to  it  only  because  I  have  heard 
its  construction  gravely  praised  by  men  of  talent  and 
intelligence,  as  one  of  the  proudest  achievements  of 
American  genius.  The  edifice  is  of  fine  sienite,  and  I 
imagine  few  parts  of  the  world  can  supply  a  more  beau- 
tiful material  for  building.  In  front  is  a  Doric  portico 
of  four  columns,  accurately  proportioned,  but,  as  usual, 
•without  pediment.  These  have  not  sufficient  projection, 
and  seem  as  if  they  had  been  thrust  back  upon  the  walls 
of  the  building  by  the  force  of  some  gigantic  steam-en- 
gine. The  dining-hall,  which  is  here  the  chief  object 
of  admiration,  is  defective,  both  in  point  of  taste  and 


92  DIVINE  SERVICE. 

proportion.  The  ceiling,  in  the  first  place,  is  too  low; 
and  then  the  ranges  of  Ionic  columns,  which  extend  the 
whole  length  of  the  apartment,  are  mingled  with  Antae 
of  the  Composite  order ;  thus  defacing,  by  the  intermix- 
ture of  a  late  Roman  barbarism,  the  purer  taste  of 
Greece,  But  it  were  mere  waste  of  time  and  patience 
to  enlarge  on  such  matters. 

My  letters  of  introduction  soon  fructified  into  a  plen- 
tiful harvest  of  visits  and  invitations.  I  discerned,  or 
thought  I  discerned,  some  difference  of  manner  between 
the  gentlemen  of  Boston  and  those  of  New  York.  For 
the  first  five  minutes,  perhaps,  the  former  seemed  less 
pleasing,  but  my  opinion  in  this  respect  soon  changed, 
and  I  certainly  now  class  many  of  my  Boston  friends, 
not  only  among  the  most  liberal  and  enlightened,  but 
among  the  most  agreeable  men,  I  had  the  good  fortune 
to  encounter  in  my  tour. 

My  first  visit  was  to  a  club,  not  professedly  literary, 
but  which  numbered  among  its  members  many  of  the 
most  eminent  individuals  of  the  State.  Nothing  could 
.exceed  the  kindness  of  my  reception.  Several  gentle- 
men, on  learning  my  objects  in  visiting  their  city, 
obligingly  professed  their  readiness  to  promote  them  by 
every  means  in  their  power,  and  I  soon  found  that  hos- 
pitality to  strangers  was  by  no  means  an  exclusive  at- 
tribute of  New  York. 

The  day  following  being  Sunday,  I  attended  morn- 
ing service  in  one  of  the  Episcopal  churches.  It  was 
performed  with  great  propriety  to  a  congregation  ge- 
nerally composed  of  the  better  orders.  In  the  evening 
I  accompanied  an  amiable  family  to  a  church,  of  which 
the  celebrated  Dr.  'Channing  is  the  pastor.  The  Doc- 
tor, I  learned,  was  then  at  Havannah,  where  he  had 
accompanied  Mrs.  Channing,  whose  health  required  a 
milder  winter  climate  than  that  of  New  England. 
The  tenets  of  the  congregation  are  Unitarian,  and  the 
service  is  that  of  the  Church  of  England,  with  the 
omission  of  all  expressions  which  attribute  divinity  to 
our  Saviour.  Yet  this,  if  not  asserted,  is  not  denied. 
It  seems  to  have  been  the  object  to  establish  a  service 
in  which  all  sects  and  classes  of  Christians  may  con- 
scientiously join,  arid  which  affirms  nothing  in  regard 


UNITARIANISM.  93 

to  those  points  which  afford  matter  of  controversy  to 
theologians. 

Though  the  intentions  of  the  framers  of  this  service 
were  obviously  good,  I  am  not  sure  that  they  have 
been  guided  by  very  just  or  philosophical  views  of  the 
infirmities  of  human  nature.  The  great  benefit  to  be 
derived  from  public  worship,  is  connected  with  the 
feeling  of  fellowship  with"  those  by  whom  we  are  sur- 
rounded, and  that  diffusive  sentiment  of  charity  and 
brotherhood,  arising  from  community  of  faith.  In  the 
presence  of  God  it  is,  indeed,  proper  that  all  minor  dif- 
ferences should  be  forgotten;  but  when  these  diffe- 
rences extend  beyond  a  certain  limit,  and  embrace  the 
more  sacred  points  of  belief,  I  can  understand  no  bene^ 
fit  which  can  arise  from  the  common  adoption  of  a  li- 
turgy so  mutilated,  as  to  exclude  all  expression  of  that 
faith  and  those  doctrines,  which  Christians  in  general 
regard  as  the  very  keystone  of  their  hope.  The  value 
of  prayer,  perhaps,  consists  less  in  any  influence  it  can 
be  supposed  to  have  on  the  decrees  of -an  eternal  and 
immutable  Being,  than  in  that  which  it  exercises  over 
the  heart  and  feelings  of  the  worshipper.  To  exert 
this  influence,  it  must  be  felt  to  be  appropriate  to  our 
individual  wants  and  necessities.  It  must  not  deal  in 
vague  generalities,  nor  petition  only  for  those  blessings 
in  which  the  great  body  of  mankind  possess  an  equal 
interest.  Like  material  objects,  the  human  feelings 
become  uniformly  weakened  by  extension.  We  can- 
not pray  for  the  whole  of  our  species  with  the  same 
earnestness  that  we  petition  for  the  prosperity  of  our 
country,  and  our  supplications  in  behalf  of  our  family 
are  yet  more  ardent.  There  is  a  gradation  of  fervour 
for  each  link  of  the  chain  as  it  approaches  nearer  to 
ourselves,  and  it  is  only,  perhaps,  in  imploring  mercy 
for  some  one  individual,  that  our  feelings  reach  their 
climax  of  intensity.  I  have  no  faith  in  the  efficacy  of 
a  system  of  devotion  founded  on  the  abstract  princi- 
ples of  philosophy.  The  religious  worship  of  mankind 
must  be  accommodated  to  their  infirmities.  The 
prayer  which  is  adapted  to  all  sects  can  evidently  ex- 
press the  faith  or  sentiments  of  none. 

The  liturgy  was  plainly,  but  effectively,  read  by  the 


94  UNITARIANISM. 

Rev.  Mr.  Greenwood,  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  rank- 
ing among  my  acquaintance.  The  sermon  was  elegant, 
Hut  somewhat  cold  and  unemphatic.  Indeed,  how  could 
it  be  otherwise?  A  Unitarian  is  necessarily  cut  off  from 
all  appeals  to  those  deeper  sources  of  feeling,  which,  in 
what  is  called  Evangelical  preaching,  are  found  to  pro- 
duce such  powerful  effects.  No  spirit  was  ever  strong- 
ly moved  by  a  discourse  on  the  innate  beauty  of  virtue, 
or  arguments  in  favour  of  moral  purit}'-,  drawn  from 
the  harmony  of  the  external  world.  The  inference 
that  man  should  pray,  because  the  trees  blossom  and 
the  birds  sing,  is  about  as  little  cogent  in  theory  as  the 
experience  of  mankind  has  proved  it  in  practice.  The 
sequitur  would  be  quite  as  good,  were  it  asserted  that 
men  should  wear  spectacles  because  bears  eat  horse- 
flesh, and  ostriches  lay  eggs  in  the  sand.  But,  admitting 
the  conclusion  to  be  clear  as  the  day-light,  the  disease  of 
human  depravity  is  too  strong  to  be  overcome  by  the 
administration  of  such  gentle  alteratives.  Recourse 
must  be  had  to  stronger  medicines,  and  these,  unfor- 
tunately, the  chest  of  the  Unitarian  does  not  furnish. 

Boston  is  the  metropolis  of  Unitarianism.  In  no 
other  city  has  it  taken  root  so  deeply,  or  spread  its 
branches  so  widely.  Fully  half  of  the  population,  and 
more  than  half  of  the  wealth  and  intelligence  of  Bos- 
ton, are  found  in  this  communion.  I  was  at  one  time 
puzzled  to  account  for  this;  but  my  journey  to  New 
England  has  removed  the  difficulty.  The  New  Eng- 
landers  are  a  cold,  shrewd,  calculating,  and  ingenious 
people,  of  phlegmatic  temperament,  and  perhaps  have 
in  their  composition  less  of  the  stuff  of  which  enthu- 
siasts are  made,  than  any  other  in  the  world.  In  no 
other  part  of  the  globe,  not  even  in  Scotland,  is  mora- 
lity at  so  high  a  premium.  No  where  is  undeviating 
compliance  with  public  opinion  so  unsparingly  en- 
forced. The  only  lever  by  which  people  of  this  cha- 
racter can  be  moved,  is  that  of  argument.  A  New 
Englander  is  far  more  a  being  of  reason  than  of  im- 
pulse. Talk  to  him  of  what  is  high,  generous,  and 
noble,  and  he  will  look  on  you  with  a  vacant  counte- 
nance. But  tell  him  of  what  is  just,  proper,  and  es- 
sential to  his  own  well-being  or  that  of  his  family,  and 


UNTTARIANISM  IN  BOSTON.  95 

he  is  all  ear.     His  faculties  are  always  sharp;  his  feel- 
ings are  obtuse. 

Unitarianism  is  the  democracy  of  religion.  Its 
creed  makes  fewer  demands  on  the  faith  or  the  imagi- 
nation, than  that  of  any  other  Christian  sect.  It  ap- 
peals to  human  reason  in  every  step  of  its  progress^ 
and  while  it  narrows  the  compass  of  miracle,  enlarges 
that  of  demonstration.  Its  followers  have  less  bigotry 
than  other  religionists,  because  they  have  less  enthu- 
siasm. They  refuse  credence  to  the  doctrine  of  one 
grand  and  universal  atonement,  and  appeal  to  none  of 
those  sudden  and  preternatural  impulses  which  have 
given  assurance  to  the  pious  of  other  sects.  A  Unita- 
rian will  take  nothing  for  granted  but  the  absolute  and 
plenary  efficacy  of  his  own  reason  in  matters  of  reli- 
gion. He  is  not  a  fanatic,  but  a  dogmatist;  one  who 
will  admit  of  no  distinction  between  the  incomprehen- 
sible and  the  false. 

With  such  views  of  the  Boston ians  and  their  pre- 
vailing religion,  I  cannot  help  believing,  that  there 
exists  a  curious  felicity  of  adaptation  in  both.  The 
prosperity  of  Unitarianism  in  the  New  England  States, 
seems  a  circumstance,  which  a  philosophical  observer 
of  national  character,  might,  with  no  great  difficulty, 
have  predicted.  Jonathan  chose  his  religion,  as  one 
does  a  hat,  because  it  fitted  him.  We  believe,  how- 
ever, that  his  head  has  not  yet  attained  its  full  size, 
and  confidently  anticipate  that  its  speedy  enlargement 
will  ere  long  induce  him  to  adopt  a  better  and  more  or- 
thodox covering. 

One  of  my  first  morning's  occupations  was  to  visit 
Cambridge  University,  about  three  miles  distant.  In 
this  excursion  I  had  the  advantage  of  being  accompa- 
nied by  Professor  Ticknor,  who  obligingly  conducted 
me  over  every  part  of  the  establishment.  The  build- 
ings, though  not  extensive,  are  commodious;  and  the  li- 
brary— the  largest  in  the  United  States — contains  about 
30,000  volumes;  no  very  imposing  aggregate.  The  aca- 
demical course  is  completed  in  four  years,  at  the  termi- 
nation of  which  the  candidates  for  the  degree  of  Bache- 
lor of  Arts  are  admitted  to  that  honour,  after  passing 
the  ordeal  of  examination.  In  three  years  more,  the 


96         CAMBRIDGE  UNIVERSITY— BUNKER'S  HILL. 

degree  of  Master  may — as  in  the  English  Universities — 
be  taken  as  matter  of  course.  There  are  three  terms 
in  the  year,  the  intervals  between  which  amount  to 
about  three  months.  The  number  of  students  is  some- 
what under  two  hundred  and  fifty*  These  have  the 
option  of  either  living  more  academico  in  the  college,  or 
of  boarding  in  houses  in  the  neighbourhood.  No  reli- 
gious tenets  are  taught ;  but  the  regnant  spirit  is  un- 
questionably Unitarian.  In  extent,  in  opulence,  and  in 
number  of  students,  the  establishment  is  not  equal  even 
to  the  smallest  of  our  Scottish  Universities. 

On  leaving  Cambridge,  we  drove  to  Bunker's  Hill, 
celebrated  as  the  spot  on  which  the  first  collision  took 
place  between  the  troops  of  the  mother  country  and 
her  rebellious  colonists.  It  is  a  strong  position,  and  if 
duly  strengthened  by  intrenchments,  might  be  defend- 
ed against  an  enemy  of  much  superior  force.  On  the 
summit  of  this  height,  a  monument  to  the  memory  of 
Washington  was  in  progress.  A  more  appropriate  site 
could  not  have  been  selected.  But  tributes  of  stone  or 
brass  are  thrown  away  upon  Washington.  Si  monu- 
mentum  quceris  circumspicet 

Our  next  visit  was  to  the  navy-yard,  an  establish- 
ment of  considerable,  extent.  There  were  two  seven- 
ty-fours on  the  stocks,  and,  if  I  remember  rightly,  a  fri- 
gate and  a  sloop.  A  dry-dock  had  nearly  been  com- 
pleted of  size  sufficient  to  receive  the  largest  line-of- 
battle  ship.  Commodore  Morris,  the  commandant,  was 
obligingly  communicative,  and,  in  the  course  even  of  a 
short  conversation,  afforded  abundant  proof,  that  his 
acquirements  were  very  far  from  being  exclusively  pro- 
fessional. 

On  the  day  following,  I  went,  accompanied  by  a  very 
kind  friend,  to  see  the  State-prison  at  Charlestown. 
The  interesting  description  given  by  Captain  Hall  of 
the  prison  at  Sing-Sing  had  raised  my  curiosity,  and  I 
felt  anxious  to  inspect  an  establishment,  conducted  on 
the  same  general  principle,  and  with  some  improve- 
ments in  detail.  It  was  difficult  to  conceive,  that  a 
system  of  discipline  so  rigid  could  be  maintained,  with- 
out a  degree  of  severity,  revolting  to  the  feelings.  That 
hundreds  of  men  should  live  together  for  years  in  the 


CHARLESTON  PRISON,  97 

daily  association  of  labour,  under  such  a  rigorous  and 
unbroken  system  of  restraint,  as  to  prevent  them  during 
all  that  period  from  holding  even  the  most  trifling  in- 
tercourse, seemed  a  fact  so  singular,  and  in  such  direct 
opposition  to  the  strongest  propensities  of  human  na- 
ture, as  to  require  strong  evidence  to  establish  its  cre- 
dibility. I  was  glad  to  take  advantage,  therefore,  of 
the  first  opportunity  to  visit  the  prison  at  Charleston, 
and  the  scene  there  presented,  was  unquestionably  one 
of  the  most  striking  I  have  ever  witnessed.  Pleasant 
it  was  not,  for  it  cannot  be  so  to  witness  the  degrada- 
tion and  sufferings  of  one's  fellow-creatures. 

In  no  part  of  the  establishment,  however,  was  there 
any  thing  squalid  or  offensive.  The  gaoler— one  ex- 
pects hard  features  in  such  an  official — was  a  man  of 
mild  expression,  but  of  square  and  sinewy  frame.  He 
had  formerly  been  skipper  of  a  merchantman,  and  it 
was  impossible  to  compliment  him  on  the  taste  displayed 
in  his  change  of  profession.  Before  proceeding  on  the 
circuit  of  the  prison,  he  communicated  some  interesting 
details  in  regard  to  its  general  management,  and  the 
principles  on  which  it  was  conducted* 

The  prisoners  amounted  to  nearly  three  hundred;  the 
keepers  were  only  fourteen.  The  disparity  of  force* 
therefore,  was  enormous ;  and  as  the  system  adopted 
was  entirely  opposed  to  that  of  solitary  confinement,  it 
did,  at  first  sight,  seem  strange  that  the  convicts — the 
greater  part  of  whom  were  men  of  the  boldest  and  most 
abandoned  character — should  not  take  advantage  of 
their  vast  physical  superiority,  and,  by  murdering  the 
keepers,  regain  their  liberty.  A  cheer,  a  cry,  a  signal, 
would  be  enough ;  they  had  weapons  in  their  hands, 
and  it  required  but  a  momentary  effort  of  one-tenth  of 
their  number,  to  break  the  chains  of  perhaps  the  most 
galling  bondage  to  which  human  beings  were  ever  sub- 
jected. 

In  what  then  consisted  the  safety  of  the  gaoler  and 
his  assistants?  In  one  circumstance  alone.  In  a  sur- 
veillance so  strict  and  unceasing,  as  to  render  it  phy- 
sically impossible,  by  day  or  night,  for  the  prisoners 
to  hold  the  slightest  communication,  without  discovery. 

13 


98  THE  PRISON  BUILDING. 

They  set  their  lives  upon  this  cast.  They  knew  the 
penalty  of  the  slightest  negligence,  and  they  acted 
like  men  who  knew  it. 

The  buildings  enclose  a  quadrangle  of  about  two 
hundred  feet  square.  One  side  is  occupied  by  a  build- 
ing, in  which  are  the  cells  of  the  prisoners.  It  con- 
tains three  hundred  and  four  solitary  cells,  built  alto- 
gether of  stone,  and  arranged  in  four  stories.  Each 
cell  is  secured  by  a  door  of  wrought  iron.  On  the 
sides  where  the  cell-doors  present  themselves,  are 
stone  galleries,  three  feet  wide,  supported  by  cast-iron 
pillars.  These  galleries  extend  the  whole  length  of  the 
building,  and  encircle  three  sides  of  these  ranges  of 
cells.  The  fourth  presents  only  a  perpendicular  wall, 
without  galleries,  stairs,  or  doors.  Below,  and  exte- 
rior to  the  cells  and  galleries,  runs  a  passage  nine  feet 
broad,  from  which  a  complete  view  of  the  whole  can. 
be  commanded. 

The  cells  have  each  a  separate  ventilator:  They  are 
seven  feet  long,  three  feet  six  inches  wide,  and  contain, 
each  an  iron  bedstead.  On  one  side,  considerably  ele- 
vated, is  a  safety  watch-box,  with  an  alarum-bell,  at 
the  command  only  of  the  gaoler  on  duty.  In  front  of 
the  building,  or  rather  between  the  building  and  the 
central  quadrangle,  is  the  kitchen,  communicating,  by 
doors  and  windows,  with  a  passage,  along  which  the 
prisoners  must  necessarily  travel  in  going  to,  or  re- 
turning from  their  cells.  Adjoining  is  a  chapel,  in 
which  the  convicts  attend  prayers  twice  a-day. 

In  regard  to  the  system  of  discipline  enforced  in  this 
interesting  establishment,  it  may  be  better  described 
in  other  words  than  my  own.  The  following  is  an  ex- 
tract from  the  annual  report  of  the  Boston  Prison  Dis- 
cipline Society: — "  From  the  locking  up  at  night  till 
daylight,  all  the  convicts,  except  an  average  of  about 
five  in  the  hospital,  are  in  the  new  building,  in  separate 
cells,  and  in  cells  so  arranged,  that  a  sentinel  on  duty 
can  preserve  entire  silence  among  three  hundred.  The 
space  around  the  cells  being  open  from  the  ground  to 
the  roof,  in  front  of  four  stories  of  cells,  in  a  building 
two  hundred  feet  in  length,  furnishes  a  perfect  sound- 
ing gallery,  in  which  the  sentinel  is  placed,  who  can 


HOURS  OF  LABOUR.  99 

hear  a  whisper  from  the  most  distant  cell.  He  can, 
therefore,  keep  silence  from  the  time  of  locking  up 
at  night,  to  the  time  of  unlocking  in  the  morning, 
which,  at  some  seasons  of  the  year,  makes  more  than 
one  half  of  all  the  time,  which  is  thus  secured  from 
evil  communication.  From  the  time  of  unlocking  in 
the  morning,  about  twelve  minutes  are  occupied  in 
a  military  movement  of  the  convicts,  in  companies 
of  thirty-eight,  with  an  officer  to  each  company,  in 
perfect  silence,  to  their  various  places  of  labour.  At 
the  end  of  that  period,  it  is  found  that  there  is  a  place 
for  every  man,  and  every  man  in  his  place.  This  is  as 
true  of  the  officers  as  of  the  convicts.  If  an  officer  have 
occasion  to  leave  his  place,  the  system  requires  that  a 
substitute  be  called;  if  a  convict  have  occasion  to  leave 
his  place,  there  is  a  token  provided  for  each  shop,  or 
for  a  given  number  of  men,  so  that  from  this  shop  or 
number  only  one  convict  can  leave  his  place  at  a  time. 
The  consequence  is,  that  with  the  exception  of  those 
who  have  the  tokens  in  their  hands,  any  officer  of  the 
institution  may  be  certain  of  finding,  during  the  hours 
of  labour,  a  place  for  every  man,  and  every  man  in  his 
place.  There  is,  however,  a  class  of  men,  consisting  of 
ten  or  twelve,  called  runners  and  lumpers^  whose  duty 
consists  in  moving  about  the  yard.  But  even  their 
movements  are  in  silence  and  order.  Consequently, 
during  the  hours  of  labour,  the  convicts  are  never  seen 
moving  about  the  yard  promiscuously,  or  assembled  in 
little  groups,  in  some  hiding-places  of  mischief,  or  even 
two  and  two  in  common  conversation.  All  is  order  and 
silence,  except  the  busy  noise  of  industry  during  the 
hours  of  labour. 

"The  hours  of  labour  in  the  morning  vary  a  little 
with  the  season  of  the  year,  but  amount  at  this  season 
to  nearly  two  hours,  from  the  time  of  unlocking  in  the 
morning  till  breakfast.  When  the  hour  for  breakfast 
comes,  almost  in  an  instant  the  convicts  are  all  seen 
marching  in  solid  and  silent  columns,  with  the  lock-step, 
under  their  respective  officers,  from  the  shops  to  the 
cells.  On  their  way  to  the  cells  they  pass  the  cookery, 
where  the  food,  having  been  made  ready,  is  handed  to 
them  as  they  pass  along ;  and  at  the  end  of  about  twelve 


100  PRISON  REGULATIONS. 

minutes,  from  the  time  of  ringing  the  bell  for  breakfast, 
all  the  convicts  are  in  their  cells  eating  their  breakfasts, 
silently  and  alone.  One  officer  only  is  left  in  charge  to 
preserve  silence,  and  the  others  are  as  free  from  solici- 
tude and  care,  till  the  hour  for  labour  returns,  as  other 
citizens. 

"  When  the  time  of  labour  again  returns,  which  is  at 
the  end  of  about  twenty-five  minutes,  almost  in  an  in- 
stant the  whole  body  of  convicts  are  again  seen  march- 
ing, as  before,  to  their  places  of  labour.  On  their  way 
to  the  shops,  they  pass  through  the  chapel  and  attend 
prayers.  The  time  from  breakfast  till  dinner,  passes 
away  like  the* time  for  labour  before  breakfast,  all  the 
convicts  being  found  in  their  places,  industriously  em- 
ployed, in  silence.  The  time  assigned  for  dinner  is  filled 
up  in  the  same  manner  as  the  time  assigned  for  break- 
fast ;  and  the  time  for  labour  in  the  afternoon  in  the 
same  manner  as  the  time  for  labour  in  the  morning; 
and  when  the  time  for  evening  prayers  has  come,  at  the 
ringing  of  the  bell,  all  the  convicts,  and  all  the  officers 
not  on  duty  elsewhere,  are  seen  marching  to  the  cha- 
pel, where  the  chaplain  closes  the  day  with  reading  the 
Scriptures,  and  prayer.  After  which,  the  convicts 
march,  with  perfect  silence  and  order,  to  their  cells, 
taking  their  supper  as  they  pass  along.  In  about  five 
and  twenty  minutes  from  the  time  of  leaving  their  la- 
bour, the  convicts  have  attended  prayers  in  the  chapel, 
taken  their  supper,  marched  to  their  cells  with  their 
supper  in  their  hands,  and  are  safely  locked  up  for  the 
night.  This  is  the  history  of  a  day  at  Charleston ;  and 
the  history  of  a  day  is  the  history  of  a  year,  with  the 
variations  which  are  made  on  the  Sabbath,  by  dispensing 
with  the  hours  of  labour,  and  substituting  the  hours  for 
instruction  in  the  Sabbath  School,  and  the  hours  for 
public  worship." 

We  had  hardly  time  to  examine  the  arrangement  of 
the  cells,  when  the  dinner  bell  sounded,  and  issuing  out 
into  the  quadrangle,  the  whole  prisoners  marched  past 
in  imposing  military  array.  In  passing  the  kitchen,  each 
man's  dinner  was  thrust  out  on  a  sort  of  ledge,  from 
which  it  was  taken  without  any  interruption  of  his  pro- 
gress. In  less  than  two  minutes  they  were  in  their 


WORKSHOPS  OF  THE  PRISONERS.  JQ1 

"  deep  solitudes  and  awful  cells,"  and  employed  in  the 
most  agreeable  duty  of  their  day — dinner.  I  again  en- 
tered the  building,  to  listen  for  the  faintest  whisper. 
None  was  to  be  heard;  the  silence  of  the  desert  could 
not  be  deeper.  In  about  half  an  hour  another  bell  rang, 
and  the  prisoners  were  again  afoot.  The  return  to  la- 
hour  differed  in  nothing  from  the  departure  from  it;  but 
the  noise  of  saws,  axes,  and  hammers,  soon  showed  they 
were  now  differently  employed. 

The  gaoler  next  conducted  us  through  the  workshops. 
Each  trade  had  a  separate  apartment.  The  masons 
were  very  numerous;  so  were  the  carpenters  and 
coopers.  The  tailors  were  employed  in  making  clothes 
for  their  companions  in  misfortune,  and  the  whole  es- 
tablishment had  the  air  rather  of  a  well  conducted  ma- 
nufactory than  of  a  prison.  There  was  nothing  of  deep 
gloom,  but  a  good  deal  of  callous  indifference  generally 
observable  in  the  countenances  of  the  convicts.  In 
some,  however,  I  thought  I  did  detect  evidence  of  over- 
whelming depression.  Yet  this  might  be  imagination, 
and  when  I  pointed  out  the  individuals  to  the  gaoler, 
he  assured  me  I  was  mistaken. 

The  prisoners  are  allowed  to  hold  no  intercourse  of 
any  kind  with  the  world,  beyond  the  walls  which  en- 
close them.  It  is  a  principle  invariably  adhered  to,  that 
they  shall  be  made  to  feel,  that  during  their  confine- 
ment— and  many  ai-e  confined  for  life — they  are  beings 
cut  off  even  from  the  commonest  sympathies  of  mankind, 
I  know  not  but  that  severity  in  this  respect  has  been  car- 
ried too  far.  If  they  are  again  to  be  turned  out  upon 
society,  is  it  not  injudicious,  as  it  is  cruel  policy,  to 
trample  on  the  affections  even  of  those  depraved  and 
guilty  beings,  and  to  send  them  forth  with  every  tie 
Broken  which  might  have  acted  as  a  motive  to  reforma* 
tion?  What  can  be  expected  from  men  so  circum- 
stanced, but  that  they  will  renew  their  former  course, 
or  plunge  into  guilt  yet  deeper.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
they  are  to  be  immured  for  life,  the  punishment  can  be 
considered  little  better  than  a  gratuitous  barbarity. 
But  the  great  evil  is,  that  on  the  utterly  abandoned  it 
falls  lightly.  It  is  the  heart  guilty,  yet  not  hardened  in 
guilt,  which  is  still  keenly  alive  to  the  gentler  and  purer 


102  TREATMENT  OF  THE  PRISONERS. 

affections,  that  it  crushes  with  an  oppression  truly  wither- 
ing. And  can  no  penalty  be  discovered  more  appro- 
priate for  the  punishment  of  the  sinner,  than  one  which 
falls  directly  and  exclusively  on  the  only  generous  sym- 
pathies which  yet  link  him  to  his  fellow  men  1  Why 
should  he  be  treated  like  a  brute,  whose  very  sufferings 
prove  him  to  be  a  man  1 

The  whole  produce  of  the  labour  of  the  prisoners  be- 
longs to  the  state.  No  portion  of  it  is  allowed  to  the 
prisoner  on  his  discharge.  This  regulation  may  be  ju- 
dicious in  America,  where  the  demand  for  labour  is  so 
great,  that  every  man  may,  at  any  time,  command  em- 
ployment; but  in  Great  Britain  it  is  different,  and  there, 
to  turn  out  a  convict  on  the  world,  pennyless,  friend- 
less, and  without  character,  would  be  to  limit  his  choice 
,to  the  alternative  of  stealing  or  starving. 

Of  course,  a  system  of  discipline  so  rigorous,  could  not 
be  enforced  without  a  power  of  punishment,  almost  ar- 
bitrary, being  vested  in  the  gaoler.  The  slightest  in- 
fraction of  the  prison  rules,  therefore,  is  uniformly  fol- 
lowed by  severe  infliction.  There  is  no  pardon,  and  no 
impunity  for  offenders  of  any  sort ;  and  here,  as  else- 
where, the  certainty  of  punishment  following  an  offence, 
is  found  very  much  to  diminish  the  necessity  for  its  fre- 
quency. There  is  great  evil,  however,  in  this  total  ir- 
responsibility on  the  part  of  the  gaoler.  There  is  no 
one  to  whom  the  convict,  if  unjustly  punished,  can  com- 
plain, and  a  power  is  intrusted  to  an  uneducated  man, 
possibly  of  strong  passions,  which  the  wisest  and  best  of 
mankind  would  feel  himself  unfit  to  exercise.  I  cannot 
help  thinking,  therefore,  that  a  board  of  inspectors 
should  assemble  at  least  monthly  at  the  prison,  in  order 
to  hear  all  complaints  that  may  be  made  against  the 
gaoler.  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  unpopular  func- 
tionary would  be  subject  to  many  false  and  frivolous  ac- 
cusations. The  latter,  however,  may  always  be  dis- 
missed without  trouble  of  any  sort,  but  all  plausible 
charges  should  receive  rigid  and  impartial  examination. 
The  circumstances  connected  with  the  Charleston  prison 
are  precisely  the  most  favourable  for  the  attainment  of 
truth.  There  can  be  no  concert  among  the  witnesses 
to  be  examined,  no  system  of  false  evidence  got  up,  no 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  PRISONER.  j03 

plotting,  no  collusion.  Here  coincidence  of  testimony 
could  be  explained  only  on  the  hypothesis  of  its  truth ; 
and  this  circumstance  must  be  quite  as  favourable  to 
the  gaoler  as  to  the  prisoners.  The  former  could  never 
want  the  means  of  vindication,  if  falsely  impeached. 

I  had  a  good  deal  of  conversation  with  the  gaoler  in 
regard  to  the  effects  produced  by  the  system  on  the  mo- 
rals of  the  convicts.  He  at  once  admitted  that  any 
material  improvement  of  character  in  full-grown  offend- 
ers was  rarely  to  be  expected,  but  maintained  that  the 
benefit  of  the  Charleston  system,  even  in  this  respect, 
was  fully  greater  than  had  been  found  to  result  from 
any  other  plan  adopted  in  the  United  States.  His  ex- 
perience had  not  led  him  to  anticipate  much  beneficial 
consequence  from  the  system  of  solitary  confinement. 
He  had  seen  it  often  tried,  but  the  prisoners,  on  their 
liberation,  had  almost  uniformly  relapsed  into  their 
former  habits  of  crime.  One  interesting  anecdote 
which  occurred  under  his  own  observation,  I  shall  here 
record. 

Many  years  ago,  long  before  the  establishment  of  the 
present  prison  system,  a  man  of  respectable  connexions, 
but  of  the  most  abandoned  habits,  was  convicted  of 
burglary,  and  arrived  at  Charleston  jail,  under  sentence 
of  imprisonment  for  life.  His  spirit  was  neither  hum- 
bled by  the  punishment  nor  the  disgrace.  His  conduct 
towards  the  keepers  was  violent  and  insubordinate,  and 
it  was  soon  found  necessary,  for  the  maintenance  of  dis- 
cipline, that  he  should  be  separated  from  his  fellow 
prisoners,  and  placed  in  solitary  confinement.  For  the 
first  year  he  was  sullen  and  silent,  and  the  clergyman 
who  frequently  visited  him  in  his  cell,  found  his  mind 
impervious  to  all  religious  impression.  But  by  degrees 
a  change  took  place  in  his  deportment.  His  manner 
became  mild  and  subdued;  he  was  often  found  reading 
the  Scriptures,  and  both  gaoler  and  chaplain  congratu- 
lated themselves  on  the  change  of  character  so  manifest 
in  the  prisoner.  He  spoke  of  his  past  life,  and  the  fear- 
ful offences  in  which  it  had  abounded,  with  suitable 
contrition;  and  expressed  his  gratitude  to  God,  that  in- 
stead of  being  snatched  away  in  the  midst  of  his  crimes, 
time  had  been  afforded  him  for  repentance,  and  the  at- 


104  ANECDOTE  OF  A  PRISONER. 

tainment  of  faith  in  that  grand  and  prevailing  atone- 
ment, by  the"  efficacy  of  which  even  the  greatest  of 
sinners  might  look  for  pardon. 

Nothing,  in  short,  could  be  more  edifying  than  this 
man's  conduct  and  conversation.  All  who  saw  him 
became  interested  in  the  fate  of  so  meek  a  Christian, 
and  numerous  applications  were  made  to  the  Governor 
of  the  State  for  his  pardon.  The  Governor,  with  such 
weight  of  testimony  before  him,  naturally  inclined  to 
mercy  >  and,  in  a  few  weeks,  the  man  would  have  been 
undoubtedly  liberated,  when,  one  day,  in  the  middle 
of  a  religious  conversation,  he  sprang  upon  the  keeper, 
stabbed  him  in  several  places,  and,  haying  cut  his 
throat,  attempted  to  escape. 

The  attempt  failed.  The  neophyte  in  morality  was 
brought  back  to  his  cell,  and  loaded  with  heavy  irons. 
In  this  condition  he  remained  many  years,  of  course 
without  the  slightest  hope  of  liberation.  At  length, 
his  brother-in-law,  a  man  of  influence  and  fortune  in 
South  Carolina,  made  application  to  the  authorities  of 
Massachusetts  on  his  behalf.  He  expressed  his  readi- 
ness to  provide  for  his  unfortunate  relative,  and,  if  li- 
berated, he  promised,  on  his  arrival  in  Charleston,  to 
place  him  in  a  situation  above  all  temptation  to  return 
to  his  former  crimes. 

This  offer  was  accepted;  the  prisoner  was  set  at  li- 
berty, and  the  gaoler,  who  told  me  the  anecdote,  was 
directed  to  see  him  safely  on  board  of  a  Charleston 
packet,  in  which,  due  provision  had  been  made  for  his 
reception.  His  imprisonment  had  extended  to  the 
long  period  of  twenty  years,  during  which  he  had  ne- 
ver once  breathed  the  pure  air  of  heaven,  nor  gazed 
on  the  sun  or  sky.  In  the  interval,  Boston,  which  he 
remembered  as  a  small  town,  had  grown  into  a  large 
city.  Its  advance  in  opulence  had  been  still  more  ra- 
pid. In  every  thing  there  had  been  a  change.  The 
appearance,  manners,  habits,  thoughts,  prejudices,  and 
opinions  of  the  generation  then  living,  were  different 
from  all  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed.  Nor  was 
the  aspect  of  external  objects  less  altered.  Streets  of 
framework  cottages  had  been  replaced  by  handsome 
squares,  and  stately  edifices  of  brick.  Gay  equipages, 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  PRISONER.  105 

such  as  he  never  remembered,  met  his  observation  at  eve- 
ry turn.  In  short,  he  felt  like  the  inhabitant  of  another 
planet,  suddenly  cast  into  a  world  of  which  he  knew  no- 
thing. 

My  informant — I  wish  I  could  give  the  story  in  his 
own  words — described  well  and  feelingly  the  progress  of 
the  man's  impressions.  A  coach  had  been  provided  for 
his  conveyance  to  the  packet.  On  first  entering  it,  he 
displayed  no  external  symptom  of  emotion;  but,  as  the 
carriage  drove  on,  he  gazed  from  the  window,  endea- 
vouring to  recognise  the  features  of  the  scenery.  But  in 
vain;  he  looked  for  marsh  and  forest,  and  he  beheld 
streets;  he  expected  to  cross  a  poor  ferry,  and  the  car- 
riage rolled  over  a  magnificent  bridge;  he  looked  for  men 
as  he  had  left  them,  and  he  saw  beings  of  aspect  altoge- 
ther different.  Where  were  the  great  men  of  the  State- 
house  and  the  Exchange — the  aristocracy  of  the  dollar 
bags — the  Cincinnati  of  the  Revolution,  who  brought  to 
the  counting-house  the  courtesies  of  the  camp  and  the 
parade,  and  exhibited  the  last  and  noblest  specimens  of 
the  citizen  gentleman?  They  had  gone  down  to  their 
fathers  full  of  years  and  of  honour,  and  their  descendants 
had  become  as  the  sons  of  other  men.  Queues,  clubs, 
periwigs,  shoe-buckles,  hair-powder,  and  cocked  hats, 
had  fled  to  some  other  and  more  dignified  world.  The 
days  of  dram-drinking  and  tobacco-chewing,  of  gaiters, 
trousers,  and  short  crops,  had  succeeded.  The  latter 
circumstances,  indeed,  might  not  have  occasioned  the 
poor  relieved  convict  any  great  concern,  but  the  whole 
scene  was  too  much  for  him  to  bear  unmoved.  His  spi- 
rit was  weighed  down  by  a  feeling  of  intense  solitude, 
and  he  burst  into  tears. 

The  remainder  of  the  story  may  be  told  in  a  few 
words.  He  reached  Charleston,  where  his  brother 
placed  him  in  a  respectable  boarding-house,  and  supplied 
him  with  necessaries  of  every  kind.  His  conduct  for 
the  first  year  was  all  that  could  be  desired.  But,  at 
length,  in  an  evil  hour,  he  was  induced  to  visit  New 
York.  He  there  associated  with  profligate  companions, 
and,  relapsing  into  his  former  habits,  was  concerned  in  a 
burglary,  for  which  he  was  tried  and  convicted.  He  is 
now  in  the  prison  at  Sing-Sing,  under  sentence  of  im- 

14 


106          OBSERVATIONS  ON  PRISON  DISCIPLINE. 

prisonment  for  life,  and  from  death  only  can  he  hope  for 
liberation. 

The  gaoler  told  me  this  anecdote,  as  a  proof  how  lit- 
tle amendment  of  the  moral  character  is  to  be  expected 
from  solitary  confinement.  The  case,  undoubtedly,  is  a 
strong  one,  yet,  of  all  the  systems  of  punishment  hither- 
to devised,  the  entire  isolation  of  the  criminal  from  his 
fellow-men, — if  judicious  advantage  be  taken  of  the  op- 
portunities it  affords,  and  the  state  of  mind  which  it  can 
scarcely  fail  to  produce, — seems  that  which  is  most  like- 
ly to  be  attended  with  permanent  reformation.  The 
great  objection  to  the  Auburn  and  Charleston  system,  is, 
that  the  prisoners  are  treated  like  brutes,  and  any  lurk- 
ing sense  of  moral  dignity  is  destroyed.  Each  indivi- 
dual is  not  only  degraded  in  his  own  eyes,  but  in  those 
of  his  companions;  and  it  appears  impossible  that  a  cri- 
minal, once  subjected  to  such  treatment,  should  ever  af- 
ter be  qualified  to  discharge,  with  advantage  to  his  coun- 
try, the  duties  of  a  citizen.  Solitary  confinement,  on 
the  other  hand,  has,  necessarily,  no  such  consequence;  it 
at  once  obviates  all  occasion  for  corporal  punishment, 
and  for  the  exercise  of  arbitrary  and  irresponsible  power 
on  the  part  of  the  gaoler.  The  prisoner,  on  his  libera- 
tion, is  restored  to  society,  humbled,  indeed,  by  long 
suffering,  yet  not  utterly  degraded  below  the  level  of  his 
fellow  creatures. 

On  the  whole,  the  system  of  discipline  I  have  wit- 
nessed at  Charleston  must  be  considered  as  a  curious  ex- 
periment, illustrating  the  precise  degree  of  coercion  ne- 
cessary to  destroy  the  whole  influence  of  human  voli- 
tion, and  reduce  man  to  the  condition  of  a  machine. 
How  far  it  accomplishes  the  higher  objects  contemplated 
in  the  philosophy  of  punishment,  is  a  question  which  de- 
mands more  consideration  than  I  have  at  present  time 
or  inclination  to  bestow  on  it.  I  anticipate,  however, 
having  occasion  to  return  to  the  subject,  in  narrating  my 
visit  to  the  Penitentiary  at  Philadelphia. 


THE  TARIFF  QUESTION.  |Q7 


CHAPTER  VII. 


BOSTON. 

THE  New  England  States  are  the  great  seat  of  manu- 
factures in  the  Union;  and,  in  Boston,  especially,  it  is 
impossible  to  mix  at  all  in  society,  without  hearing  dis- 
cussions on  the  policy  of  the  TariiF  Bill.  I  was  pre- 
pared to  encounter  a  good  deal  of  bigotry  on  this  sub- 
ject, but,  on  the  whole,  found  less  than  I  -expected.  Of 
course,  here,  as  elsewhere,  men  will  argue  Strenuously 
and  earnestly  on  the  policy  of  a  measure,  with  which 
they  know  their  own  interests  to  be  inseparably  connect- 
ed; but  both  the  advocates  and  opponents  of  the  Tariff 
are  to  be  found  mingled  very  sociably  at  good  men's 
feasts,  and  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover  that  antago- 
nism of  opinion  has  been  in  any  degree  productive  of 
hostility  of  feeling. 

On  this  question,  as  on  many  others,  the  weight  of 
numbers  is  on  one  side,  and  that  of  sound  argument  on 
the  other.  It  is  the  observation,  I  think,  of  Hobbes, 
that  were  it  to  become  the  interest  of  any  portion  of  the 
human  race  to  deny  the  truth  of  a  proposition  in  Euclid, 
by  no  power  of  demonstration  could  it  ever  after  com- 
mand universal  assent.  This  may  be  going  too  far,  but 
we  know  how  difficult  it  is,  in  the  less  certain  sciences, 
to  influence  the  understanding  of  those  in  favour  of  a 
conclusion,  whose  real  or  imagined  interests  must  be  in- 
juriously affected  by  its  establishment.  Truths  cease  to 
be  palpable  when  they  touch  a  man's  prejudices  or  his 
pocket,  and  patriotism  is  generally  found  at  a  premium 
or  a  discount,  precisely  as  it  happens  to  be  connected 
with  profit  or  loss. 

It  was  not  to  be  expected,  therefore,  that  a  question  af- 
fecting the  various  and  conflicting  interests  of  different 
classes  of  men  should  be  discussed  in  a  very  calm  or 
philosophical  spirit.  "  The  American  System,"  as  it  is 
called,  was  strenuously  supported  by  the  rich  northern 


108  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  TARIFF. 

merchants,  who  expected  to  find  in  manufactures  a  new 
and  profitable  investment  for  their  capital;  and  by  the 
farmers,  who  expected  to  realize  better  prices  for  their 
wool  and  corn  than  could  be  commanded  in  the  English 
market.  It  was  opposed  with  at  least  equal  vehemence 
by  the  planters  of  the  Southern  States,  who  regarded 
England  as  their  best  customer,  and  who  must  have  been 
the  chief  sufferers,  had  these  measures  of  restriction  been 
met  by  retaliation.  Of  course,  as  no  manufactures  of 
any  kind  exist  south  of  the  Potomac,  the  inhabitants  of 
that  extensive  region  were  by  no  means  satisfied  of  the 
justice  of  a  policy,  which,  by  increasing  the  price  of  all 
foreign  commodities,  had  the  effect  of  transferring  mo- 
ney from  their  pockets  to  those  of  the  New  England 
monopolists.  The  Tariff  Bill  encountered  strong  oppo- 
sition in  both  houses  of  the  Legislature,  but  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Western  States  having  declared  in  its  fa- 
vour, it  eventually  passed,  though  by  narrow  majorities, 
and  became  law. 

The  passing  of  this  bill  inflicted  a  deep  wound  on  the 
stability  of  the  Union.  The  seeds  of  dissension  among 
the  different  States  had  long  been  diffused,  and  now  be- 
gan to  exhibit  signs  of  rapid  and  luxuriant  growth.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  Southern  States  were  almost  unanimous 
against  the  law.  Their  representatives  not  only  protest- 
ed loudly  against  its  injustice,  but  declared,  that  in  im- 
posing duties,  not  for  the  sake  of  revenue  but  protection, 
Congress  had  wantonly  exceeded  its  powers,  and  violated 
one  of  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  constitution. 
Thus  arose  the  celebrated  doctrine  of  nullification,  or, 
in  other  words,  the  assertion  of  an  independent  power  in 
each  State  of  the  Union,  to  decide  for  itself  on  the  jus- 
tice of  the  measures  of  the  Federal  government,  and  to 
declare  null,  within  its  own  limits,  any  act  of  the  Fede- 
ral Congress  which  it  may  consider  as  an  infraction  of 
its  separate  rights. 

To  this  great  controversy,  affecting  in  its  very  princi- 
ple the  cohesion  of  the  different  states,  I  shall  not  at  pre- 
sent do  more  than  allude.  It  does,  however,  appear 
abundantly  clear,  that  if  there  ever  were  a  country  in 
which  it  is  injudicious  to  trammel  industry  with  artificial 
restrictions,  that  country  is  the  United  States.  Covering 


OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  TARIFF.  199 

a  vast  extent  of  fertile  territory,  and  advancing  in  wealth 
and  population  with  a  rapidity  altogether  unparalleled,  it 
seems  only  necessary  to  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of 
this  favoured  people,  that  they  should  refrain  from  coun- 
teracting the  beneficence  of  nature,  and  tranquilly  enjoy 
the  many  blessings  which  she  has  placed  within  their 
reach.  But  this,  unfortunately,  is  precisely  what  Ame- 
rican legislators  are  not  inclined  to  do.  They  seem  de- 
termined to  have  a  prosperity  of  their  own  making;  to 
set  up  rival  Birminghams  and  Manchesters;  and,  in  spite 
of  "nature  and  their  stars,"  to  become,  without  delay, 
a  great  manufacturing,  as  well  as  a  great  agricultural  na- 
tion. 

But  such  things  as  Birmingham  and  Manchester  are 
not  to  be  created  by  an  act  of  Congress.  They  can  arise 
only  under  avast  combination  of  favourable  circumstances, 
the  approach  of  which  may  be  retarded,  but,  cannot  pos- 
sibly be  accelerated  by  a  system  of  restrictions.  They 
would,  undoubtedly,  have  arisen  far  sooner  in  England, 
but  for  the  ignorant  adoption  of  the  very  policy  which 
the  Americans  have  now  thought  it  expedient  to  imitate. 
But  there  is,  at  least,  this  excuse  for  our  ancestors:  The 
policy  they  adopted  was  in  the  spirit  of  their  age.  They 
did  not  seek  to  revive  the  exploded  dogmas  of  a  country 
or  a  period  less  enlightened  than  their  own;  and  it  can 
only  be  charged  against  them,  that  in  seeking  to  gain  a 
certain  object,  with  but  few  and  scattered  lights  to  guide 
their  footsteps,  they  went  astray. 

But  to  such  palliation  the  conduct  of  the  American  le- 
gislators has  no  claim.  With  the  path  before  them  clear 
as  daylight,  they  have  preferred  entangling  themselves  in 
thickets  and  quagmires.  Like  children,  they  have  closed 
their  eyes,  and  been  content  to  believe  that  all  is  dark- 
ness. Living  in  one  age,  they  have  legislated  in  the  spi- 
rit of  another,  and  their  blunders  want  even  the  merit  of 
originality.  They  have  exchanged  their  own  comforta- 
ble clothing  for  the  cast-off  garments  of  other  men,  and 
strangely  appeal  to  their  antiquity  as  evidence  of  their 
value. 

The  appeal  to  English  precedent  may  have  some  weight 
as  an  argumentum  adhominem,  but  as  an  argumentum 
veritatis  it  can  have  none.  We  cheerfully  admit,  that 


110  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  TARIFF. 

there  is  no  absurdity  so  monstrous,  as  to  want  a  parallel 
in  the  British  statute-book.  We  only  hope  that  we  are 
outgrowing  our  errors,  and  profiting,  however  tardily, 
by  our  own  experience  and  that  of  the  world.  But  even 
this  praise  the  advocates  of  American  monopoly  are  not 
inclined  to  allow  us.  They  charge  us  with  bad  faith  in 
our  commercial  reforms;  with  arguing  on  one  side,  and 
acting  on  the  other;  and  allege,  that  our  statesmen,  with 
the  words  free  trade  constantly  on  their  lips,  are  still 
guided  in  their  measures  by  the  spirit  of  that  antiquated 
policy,  which  they  so  loudly  condemn. 

Enough  of  allowance,  however,  has  not  been  made 
for  the  difficulties  of  their  situation.  Our  legislators,  it 
should  be  remembered,  had  to  deal  with  vast  interests, 
which  had  grown  up  under  the  exclusive  system  so  long 
and  rigidly  adhered  to.  Any  great  and  sudden  change 
in  our  commercial  policy  would  have  been  ruinous  and 
unjust.  It  was  necessary  that  the  transition  should  be 
gradual,  even  to  a  healthier  regimen;  that  men's  opinions 
should  be  conciliated,  and  that  time  should  be  afforded 
for  the  adjustment  of  vested  interests  to  the  new  circum- 
stances of  competition  which  awaited  them.  The  ques- 
tion was  far  less  as  to  the  truth  or  soundness  of  certain 
abstract  doctrines  of  political  economy,  than  by  what 
means  changes  affecting  the  disposition  of  the  whole  ca- 
pital of  the  country,  could  be  introduced  with  least  in- 
jury and  alarm. 

Those  only  who  have  minutely  followed  the  public 
life  of  Mr.  Husldsson  during  the  last  ten  years,  can  duly 
estimate  the  magnitude  of  the  obstacles  with  which  at 
every  step  of  his  progress  he  had  to  contend.  In  truth, 
we  know  not  any  portion  of  history  which  would  better 
repay  the  study  of  American  statesmen.  They  will  there 
acquire  some  knowledge  of  the  difficulties,  which  assu- 
redly, sooner  or  later,  they  will  be  compelled  to  encoun- 
ter. They  will  learn,  that  a  system  of  prohibition  can- 
not be  abandoned  with  the  same  ease  with  which  it  was 
originally  assumed.  Their  first  advance  in  the  course  on 
which  they  have  entered  may  be  prosperous,  but  their 
retreat  must  necessarily  be  disastrous.  They  will  have 
to  endure  the  reproaches  of  the  bankrupt  manufacturers. 
They  will  have  the  punishment  of  beholding  a  large  pro- 


OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  TARIFF.  m 

portion  of  the  capital  of  their  country  irrecoverably  lost. 
They  will  be  assailed  by  the  clamour  and  opposition  of 
men  of  ruined  fortunes  and  disappointed  hopes;  and  while 
they  lament  the  diminution  of  their  country's  prosperity, 
even  their  self-love  will  scarcely  secure  them  from  the 
conviction  of  its  being  attributable  solely  to  their  own 
selfish  and  ignorant  policy. 

In  no  country  in  the  world,  perhaps,  could  the  prohi- 
bitory system  be  tried  with  less  prospect  of  success  than 
in  the  United  States.  The  vast  extent  of  territory  alone 
presents  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  its  enforcement.  The 
statesmen  of  England  had  no  such  difficulty  to  struggle 
with.  They  had  to  legislate  for  a  small,  compact,  and 
insular  country,  in  which  there  existed  no  such  diversity 
of  climate  or  of  interest  as  to  create  much  inequality  of 
pressure  in  any  scheme,  however  unreasonable,  of  indi- 
rect taxation.  In  England,  there  are  no  provincial  jea- 
lousies to  be  reconciled,  no  rivalries  or  antipathies  be- 
tween different  portions  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  facilities 
of  communication  are  already  so  great  as  to  give  promise 
that  the  word  distance  will  be  speedily  erased  from  our 
vocabulary. 

But  in  America  all  this  is  different.  Those  err  egre- 
giously  who  regard  the  population  of  the  United  States 
as  a  uniform  whole,  composed  throughout  of  similar  ma- 
terials, and  whose  patriotic  attachment  embraces  the 
whole  territory  between  the  Mississippi  and  the  Penob^ 
scot.  An  American  is  not  a  being  of  strong  local  attach- 
ments, and  the  slightest  temptation  of  profit  is  always 
strong  enough  to  induce  him  to  quit  his  native  State,  and 
break  all  the  ties  which  are  found  to  operate  so  power- 
fully on  other  men.  Entire  disparity  of  circumstances  and 
situation  between  the  Northern  and  Southern  States, 
have,  besides,  produced  considerable  alienation  of  feeling 
in  their  inhabitants;  and  disputes,  arising  from  differences 
of  soil  and  climate,  are  evidently  beyond  the  control  of 
legislative  interference.  The  Georgian  or  Carolinian, 
therefore,  lives  in  a  state  of  the  most  profound  indiffer- 
ence with  regard  to  the  prosperity  of  New  England,  or 
rather,  perhaps,  is  positively  jealous  of  any  increase  of 
wealth  or  population,  by  which  that  portion  of  the  Union 
may  acquire  additional  influence  in  the  national  councils. 


112  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  TARIFF. 

To  the  people  of  the  Southern  States,  therefore,  any  in- 
direct taxation,  imposed  for  the  benefit  of  the  Northern, 
must  be  doubly  odious.  The  former  wish  only  to  buy 
where  they  can  buy  cheapest,  and  to  sell  where  they  can 
find  the  best  market  for  their  produce.  Besides,  they  are 
violent  and  high-spirited,  strong  republicans,  and  averse 
from  any  unnecessary  exercise  of  power  on  the  part  of  the 
Federal  government.  England  is  their  great  customer, 
and  the  planter  can  entertain  no  reasonable  hope  of  opu- 
lence which  is  not  founded  on  her  prosperity.  Such  are 
the  discordant  materials  with  which  Congress  has  to  deal, 
and  which  visionary  legislators  have  vainly  attempted  to 
unite  in  cordial  support  of  "  the  American  system." 

It  is  obvious,  that  a  legislature  which  enters  on  a  sys- 
tem of  protection-duties,  assumes  the  exercise  of  a  power 
with  which  no  wise  men  would  wish  to  be  intrusted,  and 
which  it  is  quite  impossible  they  can  exercise  with  advan- 
tage. They,  in  fact,  assume  the  direction  of  the  whole 
industry  and  capital  of  the  country;  dictate  in  what  chan- 
nels they  shall  flow;  arbitrarily  enrich  one  class  at  the 
expense  of  another ;  tax  the  many  for  the  benefit  of  the 
few,  and,  in  short,  enter  on  a  policy,  which,  if  followed 
by  other  countries,  would  necessarily  put  a  stop  to  all 
commerce,  and  throw  each  nation  on  its  individual  re- 
sources. There  can  be  no  reductio  ad  absurdum  more 
complete.  The  commercial  intercourse  of  nations  would 
'be  annihilated  were  there  a  dozen  governments  in  the 
world  actuated  by  a  cupidity  so  blind  and  uncalculating. 
It  is,  besides,  impossible  that  any  system  of  protection  can 
add  any  thing  to  the  productive  industry  of  a  people. 
The  utmost  it  can  effect  is  the  transference  of  labour  and 
capital  from  one  branch  of  employment  to  another.  It 
simply  holds  out  a  bribe  to  individuals  to  divert  their  in- 
dustry from  the  occupations  naturally  most  profitable,  to 
others  which  are  less  so.  This  cannot  be  done  without 
national  loss.  The  encouragement  which  is  felt  in  one 
quarter,  must  be  accompanied  by  at  least  equal  depres- 
sion in  another.  The  whole  commercial  system  is  made 
to  rest  on  an  insecure  and  artificial  foundation,  and  the 
capital  of  the  country,  which  has  been  influenced  in  its 
distribution,  by  a  temporary  and  contingent  impulse,  may, 
at  at  any  moment,  be  paralyzed  by  a  change  of  system. 


OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  TARIFF.  H3 

It  is  impossible,  therefore,  as  matters  now  stand  in 
America,  that  the  manufacturing  capitalists  can  look 
with  any  feeling  of  security  to  the  future.  They  know, 
that  the  sword  which  is  suspended  over  them  hangs  only 
by  a  hair,  and  may  fall  at  any  time.  A  large  portion  of 
the  Union  is  resolutely,  and  almost  unanimously,  op- 
posed to  the  continuance  of  the  system.  The  monopolists, 
therefore,  can  ground  their  speculations  on  no  hope  but 
that  of  large  and  immediate  profits,  and  the  expectation, 
that  should  the  present  Tariff  continue  in  force  but  a  few 
years,  they  will,  in  that  period,  not  only  have  realized 
the  original  amount  of  their  investments,  but  a  return 
sufficiently  large  to  compensate  for  all  the  hazards  of  the 
undertaking.  It  is  from  the  pockets  of  their  fellow-sub- 
jects that  they  look  for  this  enormous  reimbursement; 
and,  in  a  general  point  of  view,  perhaps,  it  matters  little 
how  much  of  the  wealth  of  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas 
may  be  transferred  to  New  England,  since  the  aggregate 
of  national  opulence  would  continue  unchanged.  One 
great  and  unmitigated  evil  of  the  Tariff-tax,  however, 
consists  in  this,  that  while  it  is  unjust  and  oppressive  in 
its  operation,  it  destroys  far  more  capital  than  it  sends 
into  the  coffers  either  of  the  Government  or  of  individuals. 
All  that  portion  of  increased  price  which  proceeds  from 
increased  difficulty  of  production  in  any  article,  is  pre- 
cisely so  much  of  the  national  capital  annihilated  without 
benefit  of  any  sort. 

But,  in  truth,  the  exclusion  of  British  goods  from  the 
Union  is  impossible.  The  extent  of  the  Canadian  fron- 
tier is  so  great,  that  the  vigilance  of  a  million  of  custom- 
house officers  could  not  prevent  their  introduction.  A 
temptation  high  in  exact  proportion  to  the  amount  of  the 
restrictive  duty,  is  held  out  to  every  trader;  or  in  other 
words,  the  government  which  enforces  the  impost,  offers 
a  premium  for  its  evasion.  If  Jonathan, — which  we 
much  doubt, — is  too  honest  to  smuggle,  John  Canadian 
is  not;  and  the  consequence  simply  is,  that  the  United 
States  are  supplied  with  those  goods  from  Montreal, 
which,  under  other  circumstances,  would  have  been  di- 
rectly imported.  I  remember  walking  through  some 
warehouses  in  New  York  with  an  eminent  merchant  of 
that  city;  and  on  remarking  the  vast  profusion  of  British 

15 


114  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  TARIFF. 

manufactures  every  where  apparent,  he  significantly  an- 
swered, "  Depend  upon  it,  you  have  seen  many  more 
goods  to-day  than  ever  passed  the  Hook."  In  this  mat- 
ter, therefore,  there  exists  no  discrepancy  between  rea- 
son and  experience.  The  trade  between  the  countries 
still  goes  on  with  little,  if  any  diminution.  It  has  only 
been  diverted  from  its  natural  and  wholesome  channel; 
taken  from  the  respectable  merchant,  and  thrown  into 
the  hands  of  the  smuggler. 

Among  the  body  of  the  people  there  exists  more  igno- 
rance as  to  the  nature  and  effects  of  commerce,  than 
might  have  been  expected  in  a  nation  so  generally  com- 
mercial. I  believe  the  sight  of  the  vast  importations 
from  Britain,  which  fill  the  warehouses  in  every  seaport, 
is  accompanied  with  a  feeling  not  unallied  to  envy. 
They  would  pardon  us  for  our  king  and  our  peers,  our 
palaces  and  our  parade,  far  sooner  than  for  our  vast  ma- 
nufactories, which  deluge  the  world  with  their  produce. 
Such  feelings  are  the  consequence  of  ignorant  and  narrow 
views.  In  truth,  every  improvement  in  machinery 
which  is  made  in  Leeds  or  Manchester  is  a  benefit  to 
the  world.  By  its  agency  the  price  of  some  commodity 
has  been  lowered,  and  an  article,  perhaps  essential  to 
comfort,  is  thus  brought  within  the  reach  of  millions  to 
whom  it  must  otherwise  have  been  inaccessible. 

Any  sentiment  of  jealousy  arising  from  the  diffusion 
of  British  manufactures  in  their  own  country  is  no  less 
absurd.  Every  increase  of  importation  is,  in  fact,  an 
evidence  of  increased  opulence  and  prosperity  in  the  im- 
porting country.  Not  a  bale  of  goods  is  landed  at  the 
quay  of  New  York,  without  an  equal  value  of  the  pro- 
duce of  the  country  being  exported  to  pay  for  it.  Com- 
merce is  merely  a  barter  of  equivalents,  and  carries  this 
advantage,  that  both  parties  are  enriched  by  it.  Thus,  a 
piece  of  muslin  may  be  more  valuable  in  America  than  a 
bag  of  cotton;  while,  in  England,  the  superiority  of  value 
is  on  the  side  of  the  latter.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  if 
these  two  articles  be  exchanged,  both  parties  are  gainers; 
both  receive  a  greater  value  than  they  have  given,  and 
the  mass  of  national  opulence,  both  in  England  and 
America,  has  received  a  positive  increase.  A  commerce 
which  is  not  mutually  advantageous  cannot  be  continued. 


OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  TARIFF.  H5 

No  Tariff  bill,  no  system  of  restriction,  is  required  to 
put  a  stop  to  it.  Governments  have  no  reason  to  con- 
cern themselves  about  the  balance  of  trade.  They  may 
safely  leave  that  to  individual  sagacity,  and  devote  their 
attention  to  those  various  interests  in  which  legislation 
may  at  least  possibly  be  attended  with  benefit. 

But  formidable  as  the  difficulties  are  which  surround 
the  supporters  of  the  prohibitory  system,  another  is  ap- 
proaching, even  of  greater  magnitude.  In  two  years  the 
national  debt  will  be  extinguished,  and  the  Federal  go- 
vernment will  find  itself  in  possession  of  a  surplus  revenue 
of  12,000,000  of  dollars,  chiefly  the  produce  of  the  Ta- 
riff duties.  The  question  will  then  arise,  how  is  this  re- 
venue to  be  appropriated?  If  divided  among  the  different 
states,  the  tranquillity  of  the  Union  will  be  disturbed  by 
a  thousand  jealousies,  which  very  probably  would  termi- 
nate in  its  dissolution.  Besides,  such  an  appropriation  is 
confessedly  unconstitutional,  and  must  arm  the  govern- 
ment with  a  power  never  contemplated  at  its  formation, 
To  apply  the  surplus  in  projects  of  general  improvement, 
under  direction  of  Congress,  would  increase  many  of  the 
difficulties,  while  it  obviated  none.  In  short,  there  is  no 
escaping  from  the  dilemma;  and,  singular  as  it  may  seem 
to  an  Englishman,  the  Tariff  will  probably  be  extin- 
guished by  a  sheer  plethora  of  money.  The  most  en- 
lightened statesmen  unite  in  the  conviction,  that  there  is 
but  one  course  to  be  pursued,  and  that  is,  to  reduce  the 
duties  to  a  fair  system  of  revenue;  to  extract  from  the 
pockets  of  the  people  what  is  sufficient  for  the  necessary 
expenses  of  the  government,  and  no  more.  It  is  singular, 
that  the  wealth  of  a  nation,  which  in  other  countries  is 
found  to  generate  corruption,  should,  in  the  United  States, 
be  the  means  of  forcing  the  government  to  return  to  the 
principles  of  sound  and  constitutional  legislation. 

I  am  aware  there  is  nothing  new  in  all  this,  nor  is  it 
possible  perhaps  to  be  very  original  on  a  subject  which 
has  been  so  often  and  so  thoroughly  discussed.  It  ought 
perhaps  in  justice  to  be  stated,  that  the  majority  of  the 
gentlemen  among  whom  I  moved  in  Boston,  were  opposed 
to  the  Tariff,  and  that  I  derived  much  instruction  both 
from  their  conversation  and  writings.  The  great  majo- 
rity of  the  mercantile  population,  however,  are  in  favour 


}16         NEW  ENGLAND  CHARACTER. 

of  the  prohibitory  system,  though  I  could  not  discover 
much  novelty  in  the  arguments  by  which  they  support 
it.  To  these,  however,  I  shaU  not  advert,  and  gladly 
turn  from  a  subject,  which  I  fear  can  possess  little  inte- 
rest for  an  English  reader. 

A  traveller  has  no  sooner  time  to  look  about  him  in 
Boston,  than  he  receives  the  conviction  that  he  is  thrown 
among  a  population  of  a  character  differing  in  much 
from  that  of  the  other  cities  of  the  Union.  If  a  tolerable 
observer,  he  will  immediately  remark  that  the  lines  of 
the  forehead  are  more  deeply  indented;  that  there  is 
more  hardness  of  feature ;  a  more  cold  and  lustreless  ex- 
pression of  the  eye;  a  more  rigid  compression  of  the  lips, 
and  that  the  countenance  altogether  is  of  a  graver  and 
more  meditative  cast.  Something  of  all  this  is  apparent 
even  in  childhood;  as  the  young  idea  shoots,  the  pecu- 
liarities become  more  strongly  marked ;  they  grow  with 
his  growth  and  strengthen  with  his  strength,  and  it  is  only 
when  the  New  Englander  is  restored  to  his  kindred  dust 
that  they  are  finally  obliterated.  Observe  him  in  every 
different  situation;  at  the  funeral,  and  the  marriage-feast; 
at  the  theatre,  and  the  conventicle;  in  the  ball-room,  and 
on  the  exchange,  and  you  will  set  him  down  as  of  God's 
creatures  the  least  liable  to  be  influenced  by  circum- 
stances appealing  to  the  heart  or  imagination. 

The  whole  city  seems  to  partake  of  this  peculiar  cha- 
racter, and  a  traveller  coming  from  New  York  is  especi- 
ally struck  with  it.  It  is  not  that  the  streets  of  Boston 
are  less  crowded,  the  public  places  less  frequented,  or 
that  the  business  of  life  is  less  energetically  pursued.  In 
all  these  matters,  to  the  eye  of  a  stranger  there  is  little 
perceptible  difference.  But  the  population  is  evidently 
more  orderly;  the  conventional  restrictions  of  society  are 
more  strictly  drawn,  and  even  the  lower  orders  are  dis- 
tinguished by  a  solemnity  of  demeanour,  not  observable 
in  their  more  southern  neighbours.  A  shopkeeper  weighs 
coffee  or  measures  tape  with  the  air  of  a  philosopher; 
makes  observations  on  the  price  or  quality  with  an  air  of 
sententious  sagacity;  subjects  your  coin  to  a  sceptical 
scrutiny,  and  as  you  walk  off  with  your  parcel  in  your 
pocket,  examines  you  from  top  to  toe,  in  order  to  gain 
some  probable  conclusion  as  to  your  habits  or  profession. 


NEW  ENGLAND  CHARACTER.          117 

Boston  is  quiel,  but  there  is  none  of  the  torpor  of  still 
life  about  it.  No  where  are  the  arts  of  money  getting 
more  deeply  studied  or  better  understood.  There  is  here 
less  attempt  than  elsewhere  to  combine  pleasure  and  bu- 
siness, simply  because  to  a  New  Englander  business  is 
pleasure — indeed  the  only  pleasure  he  cares  much  about. 
An  English  shopkeeper  is  a  tradesman  all  morning,  but  a 
gentleman  in  the  evening.  He  casts  his  slough  like  a  snake, 
and  steps  into  it  again,  only  when  he  crosses  the  counter. 
Tallow,  dry  goods,  and  tobacco,  are  topics  specially  es- 
chewed in  the  drawing-rooms  of  Camberwell  and  Hack- 
ney, and  all  talk  about  sales  and  bankruptcies  is  consi- 
dered a  violation  of  the  bienseances  at  Broad-stairs  and 
Margate.  In  short,  an  English  tradesman  is  always  soli- 
citous to  cut  the  shop  whenever  he  can  do  so  with  impu- 
nity, and  it  often  happens  that  an  acute  observer  of  man- 
ners can  detect  a  man's  business  rather  by  the  topics  he 
betrays  anxiety  to  avoid,  than  those  on  which  he  delivers 
his  opinion. 

There  is  some  folly  in  all  this,  but  there  is,  likewise, 
some  happiness.  Enough,  and  too  much  of  man's  life 
is  devoted  to  business  and  its  cares,  and  it  is  well  that  at 
least  a  portion  of  it  should  be  given  to  enjoyment,  and 
the  cultivation  of  those  charities,  which  constitute  the 
redeeming  part  of  our  nature.  The  follies  of  mankind 
have  at  least  the  advantage  of  being  generally  social,  and 
connected  with  the  happiness  of  others  as  well  as  with 
our  own.  But  the  pursuits  of  avarice  and  ambition  are 
selfish;  their  object  is  the  attainment  of  solitary  distinc- 
tion, and  the  depression  of  competitors  is  no  less  neces- 
sary to  success,  than  the  positive  elevation  of  the  candi- 
date. The  natural  sympathies  of  humanity  are  apt  to 
wither  in  the  hearts  of  men  engrossed  by  such  interests; 
Even  the  vanities  and  follies  of  life  have  their  use  in 
softening  the  asperities  of  contest,  and  uniting  men  in 
their  weakness,  who  would  willingly  stand  apart  in  their 
strength.  It  is  good,  therefore,  that  the  lawyer  should 
sometimes  forget  his  briefs,  and  the  merchant  his  "  argo- 
sies," and  his  money-bags;  that  the  poor  man  should 
cast  off  the  memory  of  his  sweat  and  his  sufferings,  and 
find  even  in  frivolous  amusements,  a  Sabbath  of  the 
sterner  passions. 


118        NEW  ENGLAND  CHARACTER. 

But  such  Sabbath  the  New  Englander  rarely  knows. 
Wherever  he  goes,  the  coils  of  business  are  around  him. 
He  is  a  sort  of  moral  Laocoon,  differing  only  in  this, 
that  he  makes  no  struggle  to  be  free.  Mammon  has  no 
more  zealous  worshipper  than  your  true  Yankee.  His 
homage  is  not  merely  that  of  the  lip,  or  of  the  knee;  it 
is  an  entire  prostration  of  the  heart;  the  devotion  of  all 
powers,  bodily  and  mental,  to  the  service  of  the  idol. 
He  views  the  world  but  as  one  vast  exchange,  on  which 
he  is  impelled,  both  by  principle  and  interest,  to  over- 
reach his  neighbours  if  he  can.  The  thought  of  business 
is  never  absent  from  his  mind.  To  him  there  is  no  en- 
joyment without  traffic.  He  travels  snail-like,  with  his 
shop  or  his  counting-house  on  his  back,  and,  like  other 
hawkers,  is  always  ready  to  open  his  budget  of  little 
private  interests  for  discussion  or  amusement.  The  only 
respite  he  enjoys  from  the  consideration  of  his  own  af- 
fairs, is  the  time  he  is  pleased  to  bestow  on  prying  into 
yours.  In  regard  to  the  latter,  he  evidently  considers 
that  he  has  a  perfect  right  to  unlimited  sincerity.  There 
is  no  baffling  him.  His  curiosity  seems  to  rise  in  pro- 
portion to  the  difficulty  of  its  gratification:  He  will 
track  you  through  every  evasion,  detect  all  your  dou- 
blings, or,  if  thrown  out,  will  hark  back  so  skilfully  on 
the  scent,  that  you  are  at  length  fairly  hedged  in  a  cor- 
ner, and  are  tempted  to  exclaim,  in  the  words  of  the 
most  gifted  of  female  poets, — 

"  The  devil  damn  thy  question-asking  spirit; 
For,  when  thou  takest  a  notion  by  the  skirt, 
Thou,  like  an  English  bull-dog1,  keepest  thy  hold, 
And  wilt  not  let  it  go." 

Their  puritan  descent  has  stamped  a  character  on  the 
New  Englanders,  which  nearly  two  centuries  havedone  lit- 
tle to  efface.  Among  their  own  countrymen  they  are  dis- 
tinguished for  their  enterprise,  prudence,  frugality,  order, 
and  intelligence.  Like  the  Jews,  they  are  a  marked  peo- 
ple, and  stand  out  in  strong  relief  from  the  population 
which  surrounds  them.  I  imagine  attachment  to  re- 
publicanism is  less  fervent  in  this  quarter  of  the  Union 
than  in  any  other.  The  understanding  of  a  Yankee  is 
not  likely  to  be  run  away  with  by  any  political  plausi- 
bilities, and  concerns  itself  very  little  about  evils  which 


CONSTITUTION  OF  NEW  ENGLAND  STATES.        119 

are  merely  speculative.  He  is  content  when  he  feels  a 
grievance  to  apply  a  remedy,  and  sets  about  the  work  of 
reform,  with  none  of  that  revolutionary  fury,  which  has 
so  often  marred  the  fairest  prospects  of  the  philanthropist. 
Since  the  establishment  of  their  independence,  the  re- 
presentatives of  these  States  have  almost  uniformly  ad- 
vocated in  Congress  the  principles  of  Washington,  Ha- 
milton, and  Adams,  and  rather  regarded  with  apprehen- 
sion the  democratic  tendencies  of  the  constitution,  than 
the  dangers  which  might  result  from  increase  of  power 
on  the  part  of  the  executive. 

This  is  the  more  remarkable,  as  the  constitutions  of 
most  of  the  New  England  States  are  in  truth  republican 
in  a  degree  verging  on  democracy.  In  New  Hampshire, 
the  governor,  council,  senators,  and  representatives  are 
all  elected  annually  by  the  people.  In  Vermont,  there 
is  only  one  Legislative  body,  which,  along  with  the  go- 
vernor and  council,  and  judges,  is  chosen  annually. — 
Rhode  Island,  strange  to  say,  has  no  written  constitution 
at  all,  and  the  inhabitants  find  it  very  possible  to  live  in 
perfect  comfort  and  security  without  one.  The  custom 
is,  however,  to  have  a  governor,  senate,  and  representa- 
tives, who  are  chosen  annually.  The  appointment  of 
judges  is  likewise  annual.  In  Massachusetts,  the  governor 
and  Legislative  Bodies  are  annually  chosen — the  judges, 
however,  hold  their  offices  ad  vitam  aut  culpam.  In  the 
States  of  Maine  and  Connecticut,  the  Executive  and  Le- 
gislative Bodies  are  appointed  annually;  the  Judiciary, 
however,  is  permanent.  In  all  these  states,  the  right  of 
suffrage,  with  some  few  restrictions  in  regard  to  paupers, 
&c.,  is  universal. 

In  contrast  with  this,  it  may  be  curious  to  take  a  glance 
at  the  constitution  of  Virginia,  the  native  state  of  Wash- 
ington, Jefferson,  Madison,  and  Munroe,  which  has  al- 
ways been  remarkable  in  the  Federal  Congress  for  the 
assertion  of  the  highest  and  purest  principles  of  republi- 
canism. It  must  be  observed,  however,  that  until  1829, 
the  right  of  suffrage  depended  on  a  much  higher  territo- 
rial qualification  than  at  present.  In  that  year,  the  con- 
stitution was  remodelled  and  liberalized  by  a  convention 
of  the  inhabitants. 

There  are  in  Virginia  two  Legislative  Bodies.     The 


120  PRINCIPLES  OF  NEW  ENGLANDERS. 

members  of  the  Lower  House  are  chosen  annually,  the 
senators  every  four  years.  These  houses,  by  a  joint 
vote,  elect  the  governor,  who  remains  in  office  three 
years.  The  judges  are,  during  good  behaviour,  or  until 
removed  by  a  concurrent  vote  of  both  houses;  two-thirds 
being  required  to  constitute  the  necessary  majority.  The 
right  of  suffrage  is  vested  in  every  citizen  possessed  of  a 
freehold  of  the  value  of  twenty-five  dollars,  or  who  has  a 
life-interest  in  land  of  the  value  of  fifty  dollars,  or  who 
shall  own  or  occupy  a  leasehold  estate*  of  the  annual  va- 
lue of  two  hundred  dollars,  &c. 

There  is  thus  presented  the  anomaly  of  the  most  de- 
mocratic state  of  the  Union  adhering  to  a  constitution 
comparatively  aristocratic,  and  appending  to  the  right  of 
suffrage  a  high  territorial  qualification;  while  the  New 
England  states,  with  institutions  more  democratic  than 
have  ever  yet  been  realized  in  any  other  civilized  com- 
munity, are  distinguished  as  the  advocates  of  a  strong  fe- 
deral legislature,  a  productive  system  of  finance,  the  es- 
tablishment of  a  powerful  navy,  and  such  liberal  expen- 
diture at  home  and  abroad,  as  would  tend  to  ensure  re- 
spect and  influence  to  the  government. 

The  truth  seems  to  be,  that  the  original  polity  of  these 
States  partook  of  the  patriarchal  character,  and  has  not 
yet  entirely  lost  its  hold  on  the  feelings  of  the  people. 
It  was  easy  to  maintain  order  in  a  country  where  there 
was  little  temptation  to  crime:  where,  by  a  day's  labour, 
a  man  could  earn  the  price  of  an  acre  of  tolerable  land, 
and,  becoming  a  territorial  proprietor,  of  course,  imme- 
diately partook  of  the  common  impulse,  to  maintain  the 
security  of  property.  Add  to  this  the  character  of  the 
people;  their  apathetic  temperament,  their  habits  of  par- 
simony, the  religious  impressions  communicated  by  their 
ancestors,  and,  above  all,  the  vast  extent  of  fertile  terri- 
tory which  acted  as  an  escape-value  for  the  more  daring 
and  unprincipled  part  of  the  population,  and  we  shall 
have  reasons  enough,  I  imagine,  why  the  New  England- 
ers  could  bear,  without  injury,  a  greater  degree  of  poli- 
tical liberty  than  perhaps  any  other  people  in  the  world. 

But,  though  the  New  Englanders  had  little  apprehen- 
sion of  glaring  violations  of  law  within  their  own  terri- 
tory, they  had  evidently  no  great  confidence  in  the  wis- 


RELIGION.  121 

dom  and  morality  of  their  neighbours.  They  were,  there- 
fore, in  favour  of  a  federal  legislature,  strong  enough  to 
command  respect,  and  maintain  order  throughout  the 
Union.  Forming  a  small  minority  of  the  confederated 
States,  yet  for  long  subsequent  to  the  Revolution,  pos- 
sessing by  far  the  greater  share  of  the  national  capital, 
they  felt  that  they  had  more  to  lose  than  those  around 
them,  and  were,  consequently,  more  solicitous  to 
strengthen  the  guarantees  of  public  order.  They  would, 
therefore,  have  been  better  satisfied,  had  greater  influ- 
ence been  given  to  property,  and  would  gladly  have  seen 
the  sena-te  so  constituted,  as  to  act  as  a  check  on  the  has- 
ty impulses  of  the  more  popular  chamber.  Within  their 
own  limits,  there  was  no  risk  of  domestic  disturbance* 
The  most  wealthy  capitalists  felt,  that,  from  the  citizens 
of  his  own  province,  he  had  nothing  to  apprehend.  But 
it  was  to  the  federal  legislature  alone,  that  they  could 
look  for  security  from  without,  and  they  were  naturally 
anxious  that  this  body  should  be  composed  of  men  with 
a  deep  interest  in  the  stability  of  the  Union,  and  repre- 
senting rather  the  deliberative  opinions  of  their  more 
intelligent  constituents,  than  the  hasty  and  variable  im- 
pressions of  the  ignorant  and  vulgar. 

The  New  England  states  have  something  approaching 
to  a  religious  establishment.  In  Massachusetts,  Vermont, 
New  Hampshire,  and  Connecticut,  the  law  requires  each 
town  to  provide,  by  taxation,  for  the  support  of  the  Pro- 
testant  religion ;  leaving,however, to  every  individual, the 
choice  of  the  particular  sect  to  which  he  will  contribute* 
In  the  other  States  of  the  Union,  every  person  is  at  liberty 
to  act  as  he  pleases  in  regard  to  religion,  which  is  regard- 
ed solely  as  a  relation  between  man  and  his  Maker,  and 
any  compulsory  contribution  would  be  considered  a  di- 
rect encroachment  on  personal  liberty.  But  if  Christi- 
anity be  a  public  benefit;  if  it  tend  to  diminish  crime, 
and  encourage  the  virtues  essential  to  the  prosperity  of  a 
community,  it  is  difficult  to  see  on  what  grounds  its  sup- 
port and  diffusion  should  not  form  part  of  the  duties  of  a 
legislature. 

In  these  States,  the-education  of  the  people  is  likewise 
the  subject  of  legislative  enactment.  In  Massachusetts, 
public  schools  are  established  in  every  district,  and  sup- 

16 


122  EDUCATION. 

ported  by  a  tax  levied  on  the  public.  In  Connecticut 
they  are  maintained  in  another  manner.  By  the  charter 
of  Charles  the  Second,  this  colony  extended  across  the 
Continent  to  the  Pacific,  within  the  same  parallels  of  lati- 
tude which  bound  it  on  the  East.  It,  therefore,  included 
a  large  portion  of  the  present  States  of  Pennsylvania 
and  Ohio,  which  being  sold,  produced  a  sum  amount- 
ing to  £270, 000  sterling,  the  interest  of  which  is  exclu- 
sively devoted  to  the  purposes  of  education  throughout 
the  State.  This  fund  is  now  largely  .increased,  and  its 
annual  produce,  I  believe,  is  greater  than  the  whole  in- 
come of  the  State  arising  from  taxation. 

In  these  public  schools  every  citizen  has  not  only  a 
right  to  have  his  children  educated,  but,  as  in  some  parts 
of  Germany,  he  is  compelled  by  law  to  exercise  it.  It  is 
here  considered  essential  to  the  public  interest  that  every 
man  should  receive  so  much  instruction  aswill  qualify  him 
for  a  useful  member  of  the  State.  No  member  of  society 
can  be  considered  as  an  isolated  and  abstract  being,  living 
for  his  own  pleasure,  and  labouring  for  his  own  advantage. 
In  free  States,  especially,  every  man  has  important  political 
functions,  which  affect  materially  not  only  his  own  well- 
being,  but  that  of  his  fellow-citizens;  and  it  is  surely  rea- 
sonable to  demand  that  he  shall  at  least  possess  such  know- 
ledge as  shall  render  it  possible  for  him  to  discharge  his 
duties  with  advantage  to  the  community.  The  policy 
which  attempts  to  check  crime  by  the  diffusion  of  know- 
ledge, is  the  offspring  of  true  political  wisdom.  It  gives 
a  security  to  person  and  property,  beyond  that  afforded 
by  the  law,  and  looks  for  the  improvement  of  the  people, 
not  to  the  gibbet  and  the  prison,  but  to  increased  intelli- 
gence, and  a  consequently  keener  sense  of  moral  respon- 
sibility. 

Speaking  generally,  it  may  be  said  that  every  New 
Englander  receives  the  elements  of  education.  Reading 
and  writing,  even  among  the  poorest  class,  are  universally 
diffused:  arithmetic,  I  presume,  comes  by  instinct  among 
this  guessing,  reckoning,  expecting,  and  calculating  peo- 
ple. The  school-master  has  long  been  abroad  in  these 
States,  deprived,  it  is  true,  of  his  rod  and  ferule,  but  still 
most  usefully  employed.  Up  to  a  certain  point  he  has 
done  wonders;  he  has  made  his  scholars  as  wise  as  him- 


AMOUNT  OF  ACQUIREMENT.  133 

self,  and  it  would  be  somewhat  unreasonable  to  expect 
more.  If  it  be  considered  desirable,  however,  that  the 
present  range  of  popular  knowledge  should  be  enlarged, 
the  question  then  arises,  who  shall  teach  the  schoolmaster? 
Who  shall  impress  a  pedagogue  (on  the  best  terms  with 
himself,  and  whose  only  wonder  is,  "  that  one  small  head 
should  carry  all  he  knows,")  with  a  due  sense  of  his  de- 
ficiencies, and  lead  him  to  admit  that  there  are  more 
things  between  heaven  and  earth  than  are  dreamed  of  in 
his  philosophy?  A  New  Englander  passes  through  the 
statutory  process  of  education,  and  enters  life  with  the  in- 
timate conviction  that  he  has  mastered,  if  not  the  omne 
scibile,  at  least  every  thing  valuable  within  the  domain 
of  intellect.  It  never  occurs  to  him  as  possible,  that  he 
may  have  formed  a  wrong  conclusion  on  any  question, 
however  intricate,  of  politics  or  religion.  He  despises  all 
knowledge  abstracted  from  the  business  of  the  world,  and 
prides  himself  on  his  stock  of  practical  truths.  In  mind, 
body,  and  estate,  he  believes  himself  the  first  and  noblest 
of  God's  creatures.  The  sound  of  triumph  is  ever  on  his 
lips,  and,  like  a  man  who  has  mounted  the  first  step  of  a 
ladder,  it  is  his  pride  to  look  down  on  his  neighbours, 
whom  he  overtops  by  an  inch,  instead  of  directing  his 
attention  to  the  great  height  yet  to  be  surmounted. 

This  folly,  indeed,  is  not  peculiar  to  the  New  England- 
er, though  in  him  it  is  more  strongly  marked  than  in  the 
inhabitants  of  the'  other  States.  It  enters  into  the  very 
essence  of  his  character;  it  is  part  and  parcel  of  him,  and 
its  eradication  would  involve  an  entire  change  of  being. 
"  A  blessing  be  on  him  who  first  invented  sleep,"  says 
Sancho  Panza,  "  for  it  covers  a  -man  all  over  like  a  cloak." 
And  even  so  Jonathan  may  bless  his  vanity.  He  is  encased 
in  it  from  top  to  toe;  it  is  a  panoply  of  proof,  which  ren- 
ders him  invulnerable  equally  to  ridicule  and  argument. 

If  to  form  a  just  estimate  of  ourselves  and  others  be  the 
test  of  knowledge,  the  New  Englander  is  the  most  igno- 
rant of  mankind.  There  is  a  great  deal  that  is  really 
good  and  estimable  in  his  character,  but,  after  all,  he  is 
not  absolutely  the  ninth  wonder  of  the  world.  I  know 
of  no  benefit  that  could  be  conferred  on  him  equal  to 
convincing  him  of  this  truth.  He  may  be  assured  that 
the  man  who  knows  nothing,  and  is  aware  of  his  igno- 


124          BENEFITS  OF  EDUCATION. 

ranee,  is  a  wiser  and  more  enviable  being  than  he  who 
knows  a  little,  and  imagines  that  he  knows  all.  The  ex- 
tent of  our  ignorance  is  a  far  more  profitable  object  of 
contemplation  than  that  of  our  knowledge.  Discontent 
with  our  actual  amount  of  acquirement  is  the  indispensa- 
ble condition  of  possible  improvement.  It  is  to  be  wished 
that  Jonathan  would  remember  this.  He  may  rely  on  it, 
he  will  occupy  a  higher  place  in  the  estimation  of  the 
world,  whenever  he  has  acquired  the  wisdom  to  think 
snore  humbly  of  himself. 

The  New  England  free-schools  are  establishments 
happily  adapted  to  the  wants  and  character  of  the  people. 
They  have  been  found  to  work  admirably,  and  too  much 
praise  cannot  be  bestowed  on  the  enlightened  policy 
which,  from  the  very  foundation  of  the  colony,  has 
never  once  lost  sight  of  the  great  object  of 'diffusing  edu- 
cation through  every  cottage  within  its  boundaries.  It 
will  detract  nothing  from  the  honour  thus  justly  due,  to 
mention  that  the  establishment  of  district  schools  was 
not  an  original  achievement  of  New  England  intelli- 
gence. The  parish-schools  of  Scotland  (to  say  nothing 
of  Germany)  had  existed  long  before  the  pilgrim  fathers 
ever  knelt  in  worship  beneath  the  shadows  of  the  hoary 
forest  trees.  The  principle  of  the  establishments  in  both 
countries  is  the  same,  the  only  difference  is  in  the  de- 
tails. In  Scotland  the  land-owners  of  each  parish  con- 
tribute the  means  of  education  for  the  body  of  the  peo- 
ple. The  school-house  and  dwelling-house  of  the  mas- 
ter are  provided  and  kept  in  repair  by  an  assessment  on 
-the  land,  which  is  likewise  burdened  with  the  amount 
of  his  salary. 

It  has  been  an  object,  however,  wisely  kept  in  view, 
that  instruction  at  these  seminaries  shall  not  be  wholly 
gratuitous.  There  are  few  even  of  the  poorest  order  in 
Scotland  who  would  not  consider  it  a  degradation  to  send 
their  children  to  a  charity  school,  and  the  feeling  of  in- 
dependence, is  perhaps  the  very  last  which  a  wise  legis- 
lator will  venture  to  counteract.  It  is  to  be  expected, 
too,  that  when  the  master  depends  on  the  emolument  to 
be  derived  from  his  scholars,  he  will  exert  himself  more 
zealously  than  when  his  remuneration  arises  from  a 
source  altogether  independent  of  his  own  efforts.  The 


DIFFERENT  MODES  OF  EDUCATION.  135 

sum  demanded  from  the  scholars,  however,  is  so  low, 
that  instruction  is  placed  within  the  reach  of  the  poorest 
cottager;  and  instances  are  few,  indeed,  in  which  a  chfld 
born  in  Scotland  is  suffered  to  grow  up  without  sufficient 
instruction  to  enable  him  to  discharge  respectably  the 
duties  of  the  situation  he  is  destined  to  fill. 

When  Mr.  Brougham,  however,  brought  forward  in 
the  British  Parliament  his  plan  of  national  education, 
which  consisted  mainly  in  the  establishment  throughout 
the  kingdom  of  parish-schools,  similar  to  those  in  Scot- 
land, one  of  the  most  eminent  individuals  of  the  Union* 
did  not  hesitate  to  arrogate  the  whole  merit  of  the  pre- 
cedent for  New  England.  I  have  more  than  once  since 
my  arrival  heard  Mr.  Brougham  accused  of  unworthy 
motives,  in  not  publicly  confessing  that  his  whole  pro- 
ject was  founded  on  the  example  set  forth  for  imitation 
in  this  favoured  region.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  pleaded 
the  circumstances  above  stated,  the  company  were  evi- 
dently determined  to  believe  their  own  schools  without 
parallel  in  the  world,  and  the  Lord  Chancellor  will  as- 
suredly go  down  to  his  grave  unabsolved  from  this 
weighty  imputation. 

In  character  there  are  many  points  of  resemblance  be- 
tween the  Scotch  and  New  Englanders.  There  is  the 
same  sobriety,  love  of  order,  and  perseverance  in  both; 
the  same  attachment  to  religion,  mingled  with  more  cau- 
tion in  Sanders,  and  more  enterprise  in  Jonathan.  Both 
are  the  inhabitants  of  a  poor  country,  and  both  have  be- 
come rich  by  habits  of  steady  industry  and  frugality. 
Both  send  forth  a  large  portion  of  their  population  to 
participate  in  the  wealth  of  more  favoured  regions.  The 
Scot,  however,  nevep  loses  his  attachment  to  his  native 
land.  It  has  probably  been  to  him  a  rugged  nurse,  yet, 
wander  where  he  will,  its  heathy  mountains  are  ever  pre- 
sent to  his  imagination,  and  he  thinks  of  the  bleak 
muirland  cottage  in  which  he  grew  from  infancy  to  man- 
hood, as  a  spot  encircled  by  a  halo  of  light  and  beauty. 
Whenever  Fortune  smiles  on  him,  he  returns  to  his  na- 
tive village,  and  the  drama  of  his  life  closes  where  it 
commenced. 

*  "Mi.  Webster,  in  his  speech  delivered  at  Plymouth,  in  commemo- 
ration of  the  first  settlement  of  New  England. 


126          NEW  ENGLAND  PEDLARS. 

There  is  nothing  of  this  local  attachment  about  the 
New  Englander.  His  own  country  is  too  poor  and  too 
populous  to  afford  scope  for  the  full  exercise  of  his  enter- 
prise and  activity.  He,  therefore,  shoulders  his  axe, 
and  betakes  himself  to  distant  regions;  breaks  once  and 
for  ever  all  the  ties  of  kindred  and  connexion,  and  with- 
out one  longing  lingering  look,  bids  farewell  to  all  the 
scenes  of  his  infancy. 

In  point  of  morality,  I  must  be  excused  for  giving  the 
decided  preference  to  my  countrymen.  The  Scotch 
have  established  throughout,  the  world  a  high  character 
for  honesty,  sobriety,  and  steady  industry.  Jonathan  is 
equally  sober  and  industrious,  but  his  reputation  for  ho- 
nesty is  at  a  discount.  The  whole  Union  is  full  of  stories 
of  his  cunning  frauds,  and  of  the  impositions  he  delights 
to  perpetrate  on  his  more  simple  neighbours.  When- 
ever his  love  of  money  comes  in  competition  with  his 
zeal  for  religion,  the  latter  is  sure  to  give  way.  He  will 
insist  on  the  scrupulous  observance  of  the  Sabbath,  and 
cheat  his  customer  on  the  Monday  morning.  His  life  is 
a  comment  on  the  text,  Quifestinat  ditescere,  non  erit 
innocens.  The  whole  race  of  Yankee  pedlars,  in  par- 
ticular, are  proverbial  for  dishonesty.  These  go  forth, 
annually  in  thousands  to  lie,  cog,  cheat,  swindle,  in  short, 
to  get  possession  of  their  neighbour's  property,  in  any 
manner  it  can  be  done  with  impunity.  Their  ingenuity 
in  deception  is  confessedly  very  great.  They  warrant 
broken  watches  to  be  the  best  time-keepers  in  the  world; 
sell  pinch-beck  trinkets  for  gold;  and  have  always  a 
large  assortment  of  wooden  nutmegs,  and  stagnant  baro- 
meters. In  this  respect  they  resemble  the  Jews,  of 
which  race,  by  the  by,  I  am  assured,  there  is  not  a  single 
specimen  to  be  found  in  New  England.  There  is  an 
old  Scotch  proverb,  "  Corbies  never  pick  out  corbies' 
een. " 

The  New  Englanders  are  not  an  amiable  people.  One 
meets  in  them  much  to  approve,  little  to  admire,  and 
nothing  to  love.  They  may  be  disliked,  however,  but 
they  cannot  be  despised.  There  is  a  degree  of  energy 
and  sturdy  independence  about  them,  incompatible,  with 
contempt.  Abuse  them  as  we  may,  it  must  still  be  ad- 
mitted they  are  a  singular  and  original  people.  Nature, 


EQUAL  DISTRIBUTION  OF  WEALTH. 

in  framing  a  Yankee,  seems  to  have  given  him  double 
brains,  and  half  heart. 

Wealth  is  more  equally  distributed  in  the  New  Eng- 
land states,  than  perhaps  in  any  other  country  of  the 
world.  There  are  here  no  overgrown  fortunes.  Abject 
poverty  is  rarely  seen,  but  moderate  opulence  every 
where.  This  is  as  it  should  be.  Who  would  wish  for 
the  introduction  of  the  palace,  if  it  must  be  accompanied 
by  the  Poor's-house?* 

There  are  few  beggars  to  be  found  in  the  streets  of 
Boston,  but  some  there  are,  both  there  and  at  New  York. 
These,  however,  I  am  assured,  are  all  foreigners,  or  peo- 
ple of  colour,  and  my  own  observations  go  to  confirm  the 
assertion.  Nine-tenths  of  those  by  whom  I  have  been  im- 
portuned for  charity,  were  evidently  Irish.  The  number 
of  negroes  in  Boston  is  comparatively  small.  The  ser- 
vants, in  the  better  houses  at  least,  are  generally  whites, 
but  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover  that  the  prejudices 
which,  in  the  other  Stales,  condemn  the  poor  African  to 
degradation,  have  been  at  all  modified  or  diminished  by 
the  boasted  intelligence  of  the  New  Englanders. 

Though  the  schoolmaster  has  long  exercised  his  voca- 
tion in  these  States,  the  fruit  of  his  labours  is  but  little 
apparent  in  the  language  of  his  pupils.  The  amount  of 
bad  grammar  in  circulation  is  very  great;  that  of  barbar- 
isms enormous.  Of  course,  1  do  not  now  speak  of  the 
operative  class,  whose  massacre  of  their  mother  tongue, 
however  inhuman,  could  excite  no  astonishment;  but  I 
allude  to  the  great  body  of  lawyers  and  traders;  the  men 
who  crowd  the  exchange  and  the  hotels;  who  are  to  be 
heard  speaking  in  the  courts,  and  are  selected  by  their 
fellow-citizens  to  fill  high  and  responsible  offices.  Even 

*  The  observations  on  the  New  England  character  in  the  present  chap- 
ter, would,  perhaps,  have  been  more  appropriately  deferred  till  a  later 
period  of  the  work.  Having  written  them,  however,  they  must  now 
stand  where  chance  has  placed  them.  I  have  only  to  beg  they  may  be 
taken,  not  as  the  hasty  impressions  received  during  a  few  days  or  weeks' 
residence  in  Boston;  but  as  the  final  result  of  my  observations  on  this 
interesting  people,  both  in  their  own  states,  and  mother  portions  of  the 
Union. 

This  observation  is  equally  applicable  to  the  opinions  expressed  in 
different  parts  of  these  volumes,  and  I  must  request  the  reader  to  be 
good  enough  to  bear  it  in  mind. 


128  BARBARISMS  IN  LANGUAGE. 

by  this  educated  and  respectable  class,  tbe  commonest 
words  are  often  so  transmogrified  as  to  be  placed  beyond 
the  recognition  of  an  Englishman.  The  word  does 
is  split  into  two  syllables,  and  pronounced  do-es.  Where, 
for  some  incomprehensible  reason,  is  converted  into  whare, 
there  into  thare;  and  I  remember,  on  mentioning  to  an  ac- 
quaintance that  I  had  called  on  a  gentleman  of  taste  in 
the  arts,  he  asked,  "  Whether  he  shew  (showed)  me  his 
pictures."  Such  words  as  oratory  and  dilatory,  are  pro- 
nounced with  the  penult  syllable,  long  and  accented ;  mis- 
sionary becomes  missionairy ;  angel,  angel;  danger,  dan- 
ger, &c. 

But  this  is  not  all.  The  Americans  have  chosen  arbitra- 
rily to  change  the  meaning  of  certain  old  and  established 
English  words,  for  reasons  which  they  cannot  explain,  and 
which  I  doubt  much  whether  any  European  philologist 
could  understand.  The  word  clever  affords  a  case  in 
point.  It  has  here  no  connexion  with  talent,  and  simply 
means  pleasant  or  amiable.  Thus,  a  good  natured  block- 
head in  the  American  vernacular,  is  a  clever  man,  and 
having  had  this  drilled  into  me,  I  foolishly  imagined  that 
all  trouble  with  regard  to  this  word  at  least,  was  at  an  end. 
It  was  not  long,  however,  before  I  heard  of  a  gentleman 
having  moved  into  a  clever  house,  of  another  succeeding 
to  a  clever  sum  of  money,  of  a  third  embarking  in  a  clever 
ship,  and  making  a  clever  voyage,  with  a  clever  cargo;  and 
of  the  sense  attached  to  the  word  in  these  various  combi- 
nations, I  could  gain  nothing  like  a  satisfactory  ex- 
planation. 

With  regard  to  the  meaning  intended  to  be  conveyed 
by  an  American  in  conversation,  one  is  sometimes  left  ut- 
terly at  large.  I  remember,  after  conversing  with  a  very 
plain,  but  very  agreeable  lady,  being  asked  whether  Mrs. 

was  not  a  very  Jine  woman.  I  believe  I  have  not 

more  conscience  than  my  neighbours  in  regard  to  a  com- 
pliment, but  in  the  present  case  there  seemed  something 
so  ludicrous  in  the  application  of  the  term,  that  I  found  it 
really  impossible  to  answer  in  the  affirmative.  I,  there- 
fore, ventured  to  hint,  that  the  personal  charms  of  Mrs. 

were  certainly  not  her  principal  attraction,  but  that 

I  had  rarely  enjoyed  the  good  fortune  of  meeting  a  lady 
more  pleasing  and  intelligent.  This  led  to  an  explana- 


BOSTON  SOCIETY.  129 

tion,  and  I  learned  that,  in  the  dialect  of  this  country,  the 
termjine  woman  refers  exclusively  to  the  intellect. 

The  privilege  of  barbarizing  the  King's  English  is  as- 
sumed by  all  ranks  and  conditions  of  men.  Such  words 
as  slick,  hedge,  and  boss,  it  is  true,  are  rarely  used  by  the 
better  orders;  but  they  assume  unlimited  liberty  in  the 
Vise  of  "expect,"  "reckon,"  "guess,"  "calculate,"  and 
perpetrate  conversational  anomalies  with  the  most  re- 
morseless impunity.  It  were  easy  to  accumulate  instances, 
but  I  will  not  go  on  with  this  unpleasant  subject ;  nor 
should  I  have  alluded  to  it,  but  that  I  feel  it  something  of 
a  duty  to  express  the  natural  feeling  of  an  Englishman,  at 
finding  the  language  of  Shakspeare  and  Milton  thus  gra- 
tuitously degraded.  Unless  the  present  progress  of  change 
be  arrested,  by  an  increase  of  taste  and  judgment  in  the 
more  educated  classes,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that,  in  ano- 
ther century,  the  dialect  of  the  Americans  will  become 
utterly  unintelligible  to  an  Englishman,  and  that  the  na- 
tion will  be  cut  off  from  the  advantages  arising  from  their 
participation  in  British  literature.  If  they  contemplate 
such  an  event  with  complacency,  let  them  go  on  and  pros- 
per; they  have  only  to  "progress"  in  their  present  course, 
and  their  grand-children  bid  fair  to  speak  a  jargon  as  no- 
vel and  peculiar  as  the  most  patriotic  American  linguist 
can  desire. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


NEW    ENGLAND. 

HAVING  directed  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  some  of 
the  more  prominent  defects  of  the  New  England  charac- 
ter, it  is  only  justice  to  add,  that  in  Boston  at  least,  there 
exists  a  circle  almost  entirely  exempt  from  them.  This 
is  composed  of  the  first  rate  merchants  and  lawyers, 
leavened  by  a  small  sprinkling  of  the  clergy,  and,  judging 
of  the  quality  of  the  ingredienls,  from  the  agreeable  effect 
of  the  mixture,  I  should  pronounce  them  excellent.  There 

17 


130  BOSTON  SOCIETY. 

is  much  taste  for  literature  in  this  circle;  much  liberality  of 
sentiment,  a  good  deal  of  accomplishment,  and  a  greater 
amount,  perhaps,  both  of  practical  and  speculative  know- 
ledge, than  the  population  of  any  other  mercantile  city 
could  supply.  In  such  society  it  is  possible  for  an  En- 
glishman to  express  his  opinions  without  danger  of  being 
misunderstood,  and  he  enjoys  the  advantage  of  free  in- 
terchange of  thought,  and  correcting  his  own  hasty  im- 
pressions by  comparison  with  the  results  of  more  mature 
experience  and  sounder  judgment. 

It  certainly  struck  me  as  singular,  that  while  the  great 
body  of  the  New  Englanders  are  distinguished  above  every 
other  people  I  have  ever  known  by  bigotry  and  narrow- 
ness of  mind,  and  an  utter  disregard  of  those  delicacies 
of  deportment  which  indicate  benevolence  of  feeling,  the 
higher  and  more  enlightened  portion  of  the  community 
should  be  peculiarly  remarkable  for  the  display  of  quali- 
fies precisely  the  reverse.  Nowhere  in  the  United  States 
will  the  feelings,  and  even  prejudices  of  a  stranger,  meet 
with  such  forbearance  as  in  the  circle  to  which  I  allude. 
No  where  are  the  true  delicacies  of  social  intercourse 
more  scrupulously  observed,  and  no  where  will  a  travel- 
ler mingle  in  society,  where  his  errors  of  opinion  will  be 
more  rigidly  detected  or  more  charitably  excused.  I  look 
back  on  the  period  of  my  residence  in  Boston  with  pecu- 
liar pleasure.  I  trust  there  are  individuals  there  who 
regard  me  as  a  friend,  and  I  know  of  nothing  in  the  more 
remote  contingencies  of  life,  which  I  contemplate  with 
greater  satisfaction,  than  the  possibility  of  renewing  in 
this  country,  with  at  least  some  of  the  number,  an  inter- 
course which  I  found  so  gratifying  in  their  own. 

In  externals,  the  society  of  Boston  differs  little  from 
that  of  New  York.  There  is  the  same  routine  of  dinners 
and  parties,  and  in  both  the  scale  of  expensive  luxury 
seems  nearly  equal.  In  Boston,  however,  there  is  more 
literature,  and  this  circumstance  has  proportionally  en- 
larged the  range  of  conversation.  An  Englishman  is  a 
good  deal  struck  in  America  with  the  entire  absence  of 
books,  as  article^  of  furniture.  The  remark,  however,  is 
not  applicable  to  Boston.  There,  works  of  European  li- 
terature, evidently  not  introduced  for  the  mere  purpose 
of  display,  are  generally  to  be  found,  and  even  the 


LADIES  OF  BOSTON.  131 

drawing-room  sometimes  assumes  the  appearance  of  a 
library. 

The  higher  order  of  the  New  Englanders  offers  no  ex- 
ception to  that  grave  solemnity  of  aspect,  which  is  the 
badge  of  all  their  tribe.  The  gentlemen  are  more  given 
than  is  elsewhere  usual,  to  the  discussion  of  abstract  po- 
lemics, both  in  literature  and  religion.  There  is  a  moral 
pugnacity  about  them,  which  is  not  offensive,  because  it 
is  never  productive  of  any  thing  like  wrangling,  and  is 
qualified  by  a  very  large  measure  of  philosophical  tole- 
rance. The  well-informed  Bostonian  is  a  calm  and  deli- 
berative being.  His  decision,  on  any  point,  may  be  in- 
fluenced by  interest,  but  not  by  passion.  He  is  rarely 
contented,  like  the  inhabitants  of  other  states,  with  taking 
the  plain  and  broad  features  of  a  case:  he  enters  into  all 
the  refinements  of  which  the  subject  is  capable,  discrimi- 
nates between  the  plausible  and  the  true,  establishes  the 
precise  limits  of  fact  and  probability,  and  with  unerring 
accuracy  fixes  on  the  weak  point  in  the  argument  of  his 
opponent.  Of  all  men  he  is  the  least  liable,  I  should  ima- 
gine, to  be  misled  by  any  general  assertion  of  abstract 
principle.  He  uniformly  carries  into  the  business  of  com- 
mon life  a  certain  practical  good  sense,  and  never  for  a 
moment  loses  sight  of  the  results  of  experience.  In  poli- 
tics he  will  not  consent  to  go  the  whole  hog,  or,  in  other 
words,  to  hazard  a  certain  amount  of  present  benefit,  for 
the  promise,  however  confident,  of  new  and  untried  ad- 
vantages. 

Of  the  ladies  of  Boston  I  did  not  see  much,  and  can, 
therefore,  only  speak  in  doubtful  terms  of  the  amount  of 
their  attractions.  Unfortunately,  it  is  still  less  the  fashion, 
than  at  New  York,  to  enliven  the  dinner-table  with  their 
presence,  and,  during  my  stay,  I  was  only  present  at  one 
ball.  But  the  impression  I  received  was  certainly  very 
favourable.  These  fair  New  Englanders  partake  of  the 
endemic  gravity  of  expression,  which  sits  well  on  them, 
because  it  is  natural.  In  amount  of  acquirement,  I  believe 
they  are  very  superior  to  any  other  ladies  of  the  Union. 
They  talk  well  and  gracefully  of  novels  and  poetry,  are 
accomplished  in  music  and  the  living  languages,  and 
though  the  New  York  ladies  charge  them  with  being 
dowdyish  in  dress,  I  am  not  sure  that  their  taste  in  this 


132  FONDNESS  FOR  TITLE. 

respect  is  not  purer,  as  it  certainly  is  more  simple,  than 
that  of  their  fair  accusers. 

The  habits  of  the  Bostoriians  are,  I  believe,  more  do- 
mestic than  is  common  in  the  other  cities  of  the  Union. 
The  taste  for  reading  contributes  to  this,  by  rendering 
both  families  and  individuals  less  dependent  on  society. 
A  strong  aristocratic  feeling  is  apparent  in  the  families  of 
older  standing.  The  walls  of  the  apartments  are  often 
covered  with  the  portraits  of  their  ancestors,  armorial 
bearings  are  in  general  use,  and  antiquity  of  blood  is  no 
less  valued  here  than  in  England.  The  people,  too,  dis- 
play a  fondness  for  title  somewhat  at  variance  with  their 
good  sense  in  other  matters.  The  governor  of  Massachu- 
setts receives  the  title  of  Excellency.  The  President  of 
the  United  States  claims  no  such  honour.  The  members 
of  the  Federal  Senate  are  addressed  generally,  in  the 
northern  states,  with  the  prefixture  of  Honourable,  but 
the  New  Englanders  go  farther,  and  extend  the  same 
distinction  to  the  whole  body  of  representatives,  a  prac- 
tice followed  in  no  other  part  of  the  Union. 

Such  trifles  often  afford  considerable  insight  to  the  real 
feelings  of  a  people.  No  where  are  mere  nominal  dis- 
tinctions at  so  high  a  premium  as  in  this  republican  coun- 
try. Military  titles  are  caught  at  with  an  avidity,  which 
to  an  Englishman  appears  absolutely  ridiculous.  The 
anomaly  of  learned  majors  at  the  bar  addressing  learned 
colonels  or  generals  on  the  bench  is  not  uncommon,  and 
as  the  privates  of  militia  enjoy  the  privilege  of  electing 
their  officers,  of  course  the  principle  of  choice  is  by  no 
means  the  possession  of  military  knowledge.  In  a  thinly- 
peopled  country,  where  candidates  of  a  better  class  are 
not  to  be  had,  it  must  often  happen,  that  the  highest  mi- 
litary rank  is  bestowed  on  men  of  the  very  lowest  station 
in  society.  This  circumstance,  it  might  be  expected, 
would  bring  this  class  of  honours  into  disrepute,  and  that, 
like  the  title  of  knight-bachelor  in  England,  they  would 
be  avoided  by  the  better  order  of  citizens.  This,  how- 
ever, is  by  no  means  the  case.  Generals,  colonels,  and 
majors,  swarm  all  over  the  Union,  and  the  titular  dis- 
tinction is  equally  coveted  by  the  President  and  the  se- 
nator, the  judge  on  the  bench  and  the  innkeeper  at  the 
bar. 


POLITICAL  SENTIMENTS.  133 

There  is  far  more  English  feeling  in  Boston  than  I  was 
prepared  to  expect.  The  people  yet  feel  pride  in  the 
country  of  their  forefathers,  and  even  retain  somewhat  of 
reverence  for  her  ancient  institutions.  At  the  period  of 
my  visit,  the  topic  of  Parliamentary  Reform  was  naturally 
one  of  peculiar  interest  The  revolution  in  France  had 
communicated  a  strong  impulse  to  opinion  in  England, 
and  the  policy  to  be  adopted  by  the  ministry  in  regard  to 
this  great  question,  was  yet  unknown.  The  subject, 
therefore,  in  all  its  •  bearings,  was  very  frequently  dis- 
cussed in  the  society  of  Boston.  It  was  one  on  which  I 
had  anticipated  little  difference  of  opinion  among  the  ci- 
tizens' of  a  republic.  Admitting  that  their  best  wishes 
were  in  favour  of  the  prosperity  of  Britain,  and  the  sta- 
bility of  her  constitution,  1  expected  that  their  judgment 
would  necessarily  point  to  great  and  immediate  changes 
in  a  monarchy  confessedly  not  free  from  abuse.  For  my- 
self, though  considered,  I  believe,  as  something  of  a  Ra- 
dical at  home,  I  had  come  to  the  United  States  prepared 
to  bear  the  imputation  of  Toryism  among  a  people  whose 
ideas  of  liberty  were  carried  so  much  farther  than  my 
own. 

In  all  these  anticipations  I  was  mistaken.  Strange  to 
say,  I  found  myself  quite  as  much  a  Radical  in  Boston, 
and  very  nearly  as  much  so  in  New  York,  as  I  had  been 
considered  in  England.  It  was  soon  apparent  that  the 
great  majority  of  the  more  enlightened  class  in  both  ci- 
ties, regarded  any  great  and  sudden  change  in  the  Bri- 
tish institutions  as  pregnant  with  the  most  imminent  dan- 
ger. In  their  eyes  the  chance  of  ultimate  advantage  was 
utterly  insignificant,  when  weighed  against  the  certainty 
of  immediate  peril.  "  You  at  present,"  they  said,  "  en- 
joy more  practical  freedom  than  has  ever  in  the  whole 
experience  of  mankind  been  permanently  secured  to  a 
nation  by  any  institutions.  Your  government,  whatever 
may  be  its  defects,  enjoys  at  least  this  inestimable  advan- 
tage, that  the  habits  of  the  people  are  adapted  to  it.  This 
cannot  be  the  case  in  regard  to  any  change,  however 
calculated  to  be  ultimately  beneficial.  The  process  of 
moral  adaptation  is  ever  slow  and  precarious,  and  the 
experience  of  the  world  demonstrates  that  it  is  far  better 
that  the  intelligence  of  a  people  should  be  in  advance  of 


,J34  POLITICAL  SENTIMENTS. 

their  institutions,  than  that  the  institutions  should  precede 
the  advancement  of  the  people.  In  the  former  case, 
however  theoretically  bad,  their  laws  will  be  practically 
modified  by  the  influence  of  public  opinion;  in  the  latter, 
however  good  in  themselves,  they  cannot  be  secure  or 
beneficial  in  their  operation.  We  speak  as  men  whose 
opinions  have  been  formed  from  experience,  under  a  go- 
vernment, popular  in  the  widest  sense  of  the  term.  As 
friends,  we  caution  you  to  beware.  We  pretend  not  to 
judge  whether  change  be  necessary.  If  it  be,  we  trust  it 
will  at  least  be  gradual;  that  your  statesmen  will  ap- 
proach the  work  of  reform,  with  the  full  knowledge  that 
every  single  innovation  will  occasion  the  necessity  of 
many.  The  appetite  for  change  in  a  people  grows  with 
what  it  feeds  on.  It  is  insatiable.  Go  as  far  as  you  will, 
at  some  point  you  must  stop,  and  that  point  will  be  short 
of  the  wish  of  a  large  portion — probably  of  a  numerical 
majority — of  your  population.  By  no  concession  does  it 
appear  to  us  that  you  can  avert  the  battle  that  awaits 
you.  You  have  but  the  choice  whether  the  great  struggle 
shall  be  for  reform  or  property." 

I  own  I  was  a  good  deal  surprised  by  the  prevalence 
of  such  opinions  among  the  only  class  of  Americans  whose 
judgment  as  to  matters  of  government,  could  be  supposed 
of  much  value.  As  it  was  my  object  to  acquire  as  much 
knowledge  as  possible  with  regard  to  the  real  working  of 
the  American  constitution  on  the  habits  and  feelings  of 
the  people:  I  was  always  glad  to  listen  to  political  dis- 
cussion between  enlightened  disputants.  This  carried 
with  it  at  least  the  advantage  of  affording  an  indication 
to  the  prevailing  tone  of  thought  and  opinion,  in  a  condi- 
tion of  society  altogether  different  from  any  within  the 
range  of  European  experience.  At  present  I  have  only 
alluded  to  the  subject  of  politics  at  all,  as  illustrative  of  a 
peculiar  feature  in  the  New  England  character.  At  a 
future  period,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  view  the  subject 
under  a  different  aspect. 

The  comparative  diffusion  of  literature  in  Boston,  has 
brought  with  it  a  taste  for  the  fine  arts.  The  better 
houses  are  adorned  with  pictures :  and  in  the  Athenasum 
— a  public  library  and  reading-room — is  a  collection  of 
ea^ts  from  the  antique.  Establishments  for  the  instruc- 


ARTISTS.  135 

tion  of  the  people  in  the  higher  branches  of  knowledge, 
are  yet  almost  unknown  in  the  United  States,  but  some- 
thing like  a  Mechanics'  Institute  has  at  length  been  got 
up  in  Boston,  and  1  went  to  hear  the  introductory  lecture. 
The  apartment,^,  large  one,  was  crowded  by  an  audi- 
ence whose  appearance  and  deportment  were  in  the 
highest  degree  orderly  and  respectable.  The  lecture  was 
on  the  steam-engine,  the  history,  principle,  and  construc- 
tion of  which  were  explained  most  lucidly  by  a  lecturer, 
wha  belonged,  I  was  assured,  to-  the  class  of  operative 
mechanics* 

Boston  can  boast  having  produced  some  eminent  ar- 
tists, at  the  head  of  whom  is  Mr.  Alston,  a  painter,  con- 
fessedly of  fine  taste,  if  not  of  high  genius.  His  taste, 
however,  unfortunately  renders  him  too  fastidious  a  cri- 
tic on  his  own  performances,  and  he  has  now  been  up- 
wards of  ten  years  in  painting  an  historical  subject, 
which  is  yet  unfinished.  This  surely  is  mere  waste  of 
life  and  labour.  Where  a  poet  or  painter  has  a  strong 
grasp  of  his  subject  he  finds  no  difficulty  in  imbodying 
his  conceptions.  The  idea  which  requires  years  of  foster- 
ing, and  must  be  cherished  and  cockered  into  life,  is  sel- 
dom worth  the  cost  of  its  nurture.  Mr.  Alston  should 
remember  that  a  tree  is  judged  by  the  quantity  as  well 
as  by  the  quality  of  its  fruit.  Had  Raphael,  Rubens,  or 
Titian,  adopted  such  a  process  of  elaboration,  how  many 
of  the  noblest  specimens  of  art  would  have  been  lost  to 
the  world! 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  becoming  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Harding,  a  painter  of  much  talent,  and  very  considera- 
ble genius.  His  history  is  a  singular  one.  During  the 
last  war  with  Great  Britain,  he  was  a  private  soldier,  and 
fought  in  many  of  the  battles  on  the  frontier.  At  the 
return  of  peace,  he  exchanged  the  sword  for  the  pallet, 
and  without  instruction  of  any  kind,  attained  to  such  ex- 
cellence, that  his  pictures  attracted  much  notice,  and 
some  little  encouragement.  But  America  affords  no 
field  for  the  higher  walks  of  art,  and  Harding,  with  pow- 
ers of  the  first  order,  and  an  unbounded  enthusiasm  for  his 
profession,  is  not  likely,  I  fear,  to  be  appreciated  as  he 
deserves.  Some  years  ago  he  visited  England,  where 
his  talents  were  fast  rising  into  celebrity,  but  the  strength 


136  •  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS. 

of  the  amor  patriae  unfortunately  determined  him  to 
return  to  his  native  land.  I  say  unfortunately,  because 
in  England  he  could  scarcely  have  failed  of  attaining 
both  wider  fame,  and  more  liberal  remuneration,  than 
can  well  be  expected  in  America.  Thfi  modesty  of  this 
artist  is  no  less  remarkable  than  his  genius.  He  uni- 
formly judges  his  own  performances  by  the  highest  stan- 
dard of  criticism,  and  is  far  rather  disposed  to  exaggerate 
than  extenuate  their  defects.  Such  a  character  of  mind 
holds  out  high  hopes  of  future  achievement.  In  truth, 
even  now,  he  is  deficient  in  nothing,  but  a  certain  soft- 
ness and  finish,  which  time  and  a  little  practice  will  un- 
doubtedly supply. 

The  better  society  of  Boston,  I  imagine,  is  somewhat 
more  exclusive  than  that  of  New  York.  Both  pride  of 
family,  and  pride  of  knowledge,  contribute  to  this,  though 
there  is  no  public  or  apparent  assertion  of  either.  It  is 
the  custom  on  every  Sunday  evening  for  the  different 
branches  of  a  family  to  assemble  at  the  house  of  one  or 
other  of  its  members.  This  generally  produces  a  very 
social  and  agreeable  party,  and  though  a  stranger,  I  was 
sometimes  hospitably  permitted  to  join  the  circle.  It 
certainly  at  first  appeared  rather  singular,  that  the  Bos- 
tonians,  who  are  strict  observers  of  the  Sabbath,  should 
select  that  day  for  any  festive  celebration,  however  in- 
nocent. I  learned,  however,  that  on  the  literal  inter- 
pretation of  the  assertion  in  Genesis,  that,  "the  evening 
and  the  morning  were  the  first  day,"  the  Sabbath  is  not 
observed,  as  with  us,  from  midnight  to  midnight,  but 
from  sunset  to  sunset.  In  conformity  with  this  doctrine, 
the  shops  are  generally  closed  at  twilight  on  Saturday 
evening,  and  all  business  is  suspended.  Of  course,  after 
sunset  on  the  day  following,  they  consider  themselves 
discharged  from  farther  religious  observance,  and  the 
evening  is  generally  devoted  to  social  intercourse. 

Having  passed  nearly  three  weeks  in  Boston,  it  be- 
came necessary  that  I  should  direct  my  steps  to  the 
southward.  I  determined  to  return  to  New  York  by 
land,  being  anxious  to  see  something  of  the  country,  and 
more  than  I  had  yet  done  of  its  inhabitants.  The  fes- 
tivities of  Christmas,  therefore,  were  no  sooner  over, 
than  I  quitted  Boston,  with  sentiments  of  deep  gratitude 


DEPARTURE  FROM  BOSTON.  137 

for  a  kindness,  which,  from  the  hour  of  my  arrival,  to 
that  of  my  departure,  had  continued  unbroken. 

I  have  already  described  an  American  stage-coach. 
The  one  in  which  I  now  travelled,  though  distinguished 
by  the  title  of  ."mail-stage,"  could  boast  no  peculiar 
attraction.  It  was  old  and  rickety,  and  the  stuffing  of 
the  cushions  had  become  so  conglomerated  into  hard  and 
irregular  masses,  as  to  impress  the  passengers  with  the 
conviction  of  being  seated  on  a  bag  of  pebbles.  Fortu- 
nately it  was  not  crowded,  and  the  road,  though  rough, 
was  at  least  better  than  that  on  which  I  had  been  jolted 
on  my  journey  from  Providence.  It  was  one  o'clock 
before  we  got  fairly  under  way,  and  it  is  scarcely  possi- 
ble, I  imagine,  for  a  journey  to  commence  under  gloomier 
auguries.  The  weather  was  most  dismal.  The  wind 
roared  loudly  among  the  branches  of  the  leafless  trees, 
and  beat  occasionally  against  the  carriage  in  gusts  so  vi- 
olent, as  to  threaten  its  overthrow.  At  length  the  clouds 
opened,  and  down  came  a  storm  of  snow,  which,  in  a 
few  minutes,  had  covered  the  whole  surface  of  the  coun- 
try, as  with  a  winding-sheet. 

The  first  night  we  slept  at  Worcester,  a  town  contain- 
ing about  three  thousand  inhabitants,  which  the  guide- 
book declares  to  contain  a  bank,  four  printing-offices,  a 
court-house,  and  a  jail,  assertions  which  I  can  pretend 
neither  to  corroborate  nor  deny.  Its  appearance,  how- 
ever, as  I  observed  on  the  following  morning,  was  far 
from  unprepossessing;  the.  streets  were  clean,  and  round 
the  town  stood  neat. and  pretty-looking  villas,  which 
might  have  been  still  prettier,  had  they  displayed  less 
gaudy  and  tasteless  decoration. 

As  the  county  court, — or  some  other, — was  then  sit- 
ting, the  inn  was  crowded  with  lawyers  and  their  clients, 
at  least  fifty  of  whom  already  occupied  the  public  salon, 
which  was  certainly  not  more  than  twenty  feet  square. 
The  passengers  were  left  to  scramble  out  of  the  coach  as 
they  best  could  in  the  dark,  and  afterwards  to  explore 
their  way  without  the  smallest  notice,  beyond  that  of  a 
broad  stare  from  the  master  of  the  house.  On  entering 
the  room,  I  stood  for  some  time,  in  the  hope  that  a  party 
who  engrossed  the  whole  fire,  would  compassionate  our 
half-frozen  condition,  and  invite  our  approach.  Nothing, 

18 


138  NEW  ENGLAND  INN. 

however,  was  farther  from  their  thoughts  than  such  be- 
nevolence. "Friend,  did  you  come  by  the  stage?" 
asked  a  man  immediately  in  my  front,  "I  guess  you 
found  it  tarnation  cold."  I  assured  him  his  conjecture 
was  quite  correct,  but  the  reply  had  not  the  effect  of  in- 
ducing any  relaxation  of  the  blockade.  I  soon  observed, 
however,  that  my  fellow-travellers  elbowed  their  way 
without  ceremony,  and  by  adopting  Rodney's  manoeuvre 
of  cutting  the  line,  had  already  gained  a  comfortable  po- 
sition in  rear  of  the  cordon.  I  therefore  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  follow  their  example,  and  pushing  resolutely  for- 
ward, at  length  enjoyed  the  sight  and  warmth  of  the 
blazing  embers. 

In  about  half  an  hour,  the  ringing  of  a  bell  gave  wel- 
come signal  of  supper,  and,  accompanying  my  fellow- 
passengers  to  the  eating-room,  we  found  a  plentiful  meal 
awaiting  our  appearance.  On  the  score  of  fare,  there 
was  certainly  no  cause  of  complaint.  There  were  dishes 
of  beef-steaks — which,  in  this  country,  are  generally 
about  half  the  size  of  a  newspaper, — broiled  fowl,  ham, 
cold  turkey,  toast — not  made  in  the  English  fashion,  but 
boiled  in  melted  butter, — a  kind  of  crumpet  called  waf- 
fles, &c,  &c.  The  tea  and  coffee  were  poured  out  and 
handed  by  a  girl  with  long  ringlets  and  ear-rings,  not  re- 
markable for  neatness  of  apparel,  and  who  remained 
seated,  unless  when  actually  engaged  in  the  discharge  of 
her  functions.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  gravity  of  her 
expression  and  deportment,  and  there  was  an  air  of  cool 
indifference  about  her  mode  of  ministering  to  the  wants 
of  the  guests,  which  was  certainly  far  from  prepossess- 
ing. This  New  England  Hebe,  however,  was  good- 
looking,  and,  with  the  addition  of  a  smile,  would  have 
been  pleasing. 

Having  concluded  the  meal,  I  amused  myself  on  our 
return  to  the  public  room,  by  making  observations  on  the 
company.  The  clamour  of  Babel  could  not  have  been 
much  worse  than  that  which  filled  the  apartment.  I  at- 
tempted to  discriminate  between  lawyer  and  client,  but 
the  task  was  not  easy.  There  was  in  both  the  same 
keen  and  callous  expression  of  worldly  anxiety;  the 
same  cold  selfishness  of  look  and  manner.  The  scene 
altogether  was  not  agreeable;  many  of  the  company  were 


NEW  ENGLAND   INN.  130 

without  shoes,  others  without  a  cravat,  and,  compared 
with  people  of  the  same  class  in  England,  they  were 
dirty  both  in  habit  and  person.  It  is  always  unpleasant 
to  mingle  in  a  crowd,  with  the  consciousness  that  you 
have  no  sympathy  or  fellow-feeling  with  the  individuals 
that  compose  it.  I,  therefore,  soon  desisted  from  my 
task  of  observation,  and,  having  fully  digested  the  con- 
tents of  a  Worcester  newspaper,  determined  on  retiring 
for  the  night. 

The  process  in  England,  in  such  circumstances,  is  to 
ring  for  the  chamber-maid, '  but,  in  America,  there  are  no 
bells,  and  no  chamber-maids.  You  therefore  walk  to 
the  bar,  and  solicit  the  favour  of  being  supplied  with  a 
candle,  a  request  which  is  ultimately,  though  by  no 
means  immediately,  complied  with.  You  then  explore 
the  way  to  your  apartment  unassisted,  and  with  about 
the  same  chance  of  success  as  the  enterprising  Parry  in 
his  hunt  after  the  northwest  passage.  Your  number  is  63, 
but,  in  what  part  of  the  mansion  that  number  is  to  be 
found,  you  are,  of  course,  without  the  means  of  proba- 
ble conjecture.  Let  it  be  supposed,  however,  that  you 
are  more  fortunate  than  Captain  Parry,  and  at  length  dis- 
cover the  object  of  your  search.  If  you  are  an  English- 
man, and  too  young  to  have  roughed  it  under  Welling- 
ton, you  are,  probably,  what,  in  this  country,  is  called 
"mighty  particular,"  rejoice  in  a  couple  of  comfortable 
pillows,  to  say  nothing  of  a  lurking  prejudice  in  favour 
of  multiplicity  of  blankets,  especially  with  the  thermo- 
meter some  fifty  degrees  below  the  freezing  point.  Such 
luxuries,  however,  it  is  ten  to  one,  you  will  not  find  in 
the  uncurtained  crib  in  which  you  are  destined  to  pass 
the  night.  Your  first  impulse,  therefore,  is  to  walk 
down  stairs  and  make  known  your  wants  to  the  land- 
lord. This  is  a  mistake.  Have  nothing  to  say  to  him. 
You  may  rely  on  it,  he  is  much  too  busy  to  have  any 
time  to  throw  away  in  humouring  the  whimsies  of  a  fo- 
reigner; and,  should  it  happen,  as  it  does  sometimes  in 
the  New  England  states,  that  the  establishment  is  com- 
posed of  natives,  your  chance  of  a  comfortable  sleep  for 
the  nigtjt,  is  about  as  great  as  that  of  your  gaining  the 
Thirty  Thousand  pound  prize  in  the  lottery.  But,  if 
there  are  black,  and,  still  better,  if  there  are  Irish  ser- 


140  JOURNEY  TO  SPRINGFIELD. 

vants,  your  prospect  of  comfort  is  wonderfully  im- 
proved. A  douceur,  judiciously  administered,  generally 
does  the  business,  and  when  you  at  length  recline  after 
the  fatigues  of  the  day,  you  find  your  head  has  acquired 
at  least  six  inches  additional  elevation,  and  the  superin- 
cumbent weight  of  woollen  has  been  largely  augmented. 

It  was  at  Worcester  that  I  received  this  most  useful 
information.  Being  in  want  of  the  above  mentioned  ac- 
commodations, I  deputed  my  servant  to  make  an  hum- 
ble representation  of  my  necessities  to  the  landlord. 
The  flinty  heart  of  Boniface,  however,  was  not  to  be 
moved.  The  young  lady  with  the  ringlets  and  ear-rings 
was  no  less  inexorable,  but,  luckily  for  me,  a  coloured 
waiter  was  not  proof  against  the  eloquence  of  a  quarter 
dollar.  In  five  jminutes  the  articles  were  produced,  and, 
as  sailors  say,  "1  tumbled  in"  for  the  night,  with  a  rea- 
sonable prospect  of  warmth  and  comfort. 

After  a  good  breakfast  on  the  following  morning,  I 
felt  again  fortified  for  the  perils  and  disagreeables  of  the 
mail-stage.  Mr.  Harding,  to  whose  merits  as  an  artist  I 
have  already  alluded,  was,  fortunately,  a  fellow-passen- 
ger, being  on  his  way  to  join  his  family  at  Springfield. 
The  only  other  passenger  was  a  young  lady,  with  an 
enormous  band-box  on  her  knee,  to  whom  Mr.  Harding 
introduced  me.  There  was  something  in  this  fair  dam- 
sel and  her  band-box  peculiarly  interesting.  She  sat 
immediately  opposite  to  me,  but  nothing  of  her  face  or 
person  was  visible,  except  a  forehead,  a  few  dark  ring- 
lets, and  a  pair  of  the  most  beautiful  eyes  in  the  world ; 
which,  like  the  sun  just  peeping  above  the  horizon,  sent 
the  brightest  flashes  imaginable,  along  the  upper  level  of 
this  Brobdignag  of  a  band-box. 

The  snow  had  continued  to  fall  during  the  night,  and 
the  jolting,  of  the  "mail-stage"  was,  certainly,  any  thing, 
but  agreeable.  When  out  of  humour,  however,  by  the 
united  influence  of  the  weather  and  the  road,  I  had  only 
to  direct  a  single  glance  towards  the  beautiful  orbs  scin- 
tillating in  my  front,  to  be  restored  to  equanimity. — 
When  any  thing  at  all  jocular  was  said,  one  could  read 
a  radiant  laughter  in  this  expressive  feature,  though  her 
lips  gave  utterance  to  no  sound  of  merriment.  For 
about  five  hours  the  fair  oculist  continued  our  fellow- 


ARRIVAL  AT  SPRINGFIELD.  141 

traveller,  and  I  had  at  length  come  to  think  of  her  as 
some  fantastic  and  preternatural  creation;  such  a  being 
as  one  sometimes  reads  of  in  a  German  romance,  half 
band-box,  and  half  eye. 

At  length  she  left  the  coach.  When  her  band-box 
was  about  to  be  removed  from  its  position,  I  remember 
averting  my  face,  lest  a  view  of  her  countenance  might 
destroy  the  fanciful  interest  she  had  excited.  She  de- 
parted, therefore,  unseen;  but  those  eyes  will  live  in  my 
memory,  long  after  all  record  of  her  fellow-traveller 
shall  have  faded  from  hers. 

After  her  departure,  Harding  told  me  her  story;  she 
was  a  young  lady  of  respectable  connexions,  and,  with 
the  consent  of  her  family,  had  become  engaged  to  a 
young  man,  who  afterwards  proved  false  to  his  vows, 
and  married  a  wealthier  bride.  She  had  suffered  severe- 
ly tinder  this  disappointment,  and  was  then  going  on  a 
visit  to  her  aunt  at  Northampton,  in  the  hope  that  change 
of  scene  might  contribute  to  the  restoration  of  her  tran- 
quillity. That  this  result  would  follow  I  have  no  doubt. 
Those  eyes  were  too  laughing  and  brilliant,  to  belong 
permanently  to  a  languishing  and  broken-hearted  mai- 
den. 

We  dined  at  a  tolerable  inn,  and  proceeded  on  our  jour- 
ney. The  snow  had  ceased;  there  was  a  bright  sun* 
above,  but  I  never  remember  to  have  felt  the  cold  so  in- 
tense. It  was  late  before  we  reached  Springfield,  where 
I  had  determined  on  making  a  day's  halt.  The  inn  was 
comfortable,  and  I  succeeded  in  procuring  private  apart- 
ments. On  the  following  morning  I  took  a  ramble  over 
the  village,  which  is  by  far  the  gayest  I  had  yet  seen  in 
the  course  of  my  tour.  It  abounds  with  white  frame- 
work villas,  with  green  Venetian  blinds,  and  porticoes1 
of  Corinthian  or  Ionic  columns  sadly  out  of  proportion. 
It  appears  to  me,  however,  that  massive  columns — and 
columns  not  apparently  massive,  at  least,  must  be  ab- 
surd— are  sadly  out  of  place  when  attached  to  a  wooden 
building.  When  such  fragile  materials  are  employed, 
lightness  should  be  the  chief  object  of  the  architect,  but 
these  transatlantic  Palladios  seem  to  despise  the  anti- 
quated notions  of  fitness  and  proportion  which  prevail 
in  other  parts  of  the  world.  They  heap  tawdry  orna- 


142         FEATURES  OF  THE  COUNTRY. 

ment  upon  their  gingerbread  creations,  and  you  enter  a 
paltry  clapboard  cottage,  through,  what  is  at  least  meant 
for,  a  splendid  colonnade. 

In  the  country  through  which  I  passed,  the  houses  are 
nearly  all  of  the  class  which  may  be  called  comfortable. 
The  general  scenery,  at  a  more  favourable  season,  I 
can  easily  conceive  to  be  pretty.  The  chief  defect  is 
the  utter  flimsiness  of  the  houses,  and  the  glaring  effect 
arising  from  the  too  profuse  use  of  the  paint-brush.  They 
are,  evidently,  not  calculated  to  last  above  fifteen  or 
twenty  years,  and  this  extreme  fragility  renders  more 
glaring  the  absurdity  of  that  profusion  of  gewgaw  deco- 
ration in  which  the  richer  inhabitants  delight  to  indulge. 

The  country  is  too  new  for  a  landscape  painter.  With 
variety  of  surface,  and  abundance  of  wood  and  water,  an 
artist  will  certainly  find  many  scenes  worthy  of  his  pen- 
cil, but  the  worm  fences,  and  the  freshness  and  regularity 
of  the  houses,  are  sadly  destructive  of  the  picturesque. 
Had  the  buildings  been  of  more  enduring  materials,  time, 
the  beautifier,  would  have  gradually  mellowed  down  their 
hardness  of  outline,  and  diminished  the  unpleasant  con- 
trast which  is  here  so  obtrusively  apparent  between  the 
works  of  man  and  those  of  nature.  But  at  present  there 
is  no  chance  of  this.  Each  generation  builds  for  itself, 
and  even  the  human  frame  is  less  perishable  than  the 
ricketty  and  flimsy  structures  erected  for  its  comfort. 

The  advantages  of  a  country,  however,  are  not  to  be 
measured  by  the  degree  of  gratification  it  may  administer 
to  the  taste  or  imagination  of  a  traveller.  Where  plenty 
is  in  the  cottage,  it  matters  but  little  what  figure  it  may 
make  on  the  canvass  of  the  painter.  1  have  travelled  in 
many  countries,  but  assuredly  never  in  any,  where  the 
materials  of  happiness  were  so  widely  and  plentifully  dif- 
fused as  in  these  New  England  States.  And  yet  the  peo- 
ple are  not  happy,  or  if  they  be,  there  is  no  faith  in  La- 
vater.  Never  have  I  seen  countenances  so  furrowed  by 
care,  as  those  of  this  favoured  people.  Both  soul  and  body 
appear  to  have  been  withered  up  by  the  anxieties  of  life; 
and  with  all  the  appliances  of  enjoyment  within  their 
reach,  it  seems  as  if  some  strange  curse  had  gone  forth 
against  them,  which  said,  "  Ye  shall  not  enjoy."  One 
looks  in  vain  here  for  the  ruddy  and  jovial  faces  which, 


PILGRIM  FATHERS.  143 

in  England,  meet  us  on  every  hand.  The  full,  broad, 
and  muscular  frame;  the  bold  serenity  of  aspect;  the 
smile,  the  laugh,  the  song,  the  dance, — let  not  a  traveller 
seek  these,  or  any  indications  of  a  light  heart  and  con- 
tented spirit  in  the  New  England  States. 

Let  me  not,  however,  be  misunderstood.  The  distinc- 
tion I  would  draw  is  simply  this.  The  Englishman  has 
the  inclination  to  be  happy,  though  not  always  the  means 
of  happiness  at  command.  The  New  Englander,  with  a 
thousand  blessings,  is  deficient  in  what  outvalues  them  all, 
the  disposition  to  enjoyment.  He  is  inter  opes  inops. 

Something  of  this  misfortune,  1  have  no  doubt,  is  attri- 
butable to  climate,  but  1  cannot  help  believing  it,  in  a 
great  degree,  hereditary.  The  pilgrim  fathers  were  cer- 
tainly not  men  of  a  very  enviable  temperament.  Full  of 
spiritual  pride,  needy,  bigoted,  superstitious,  ignorant,  and 
despising  knowledge,  intolerant,  fleeing  from  persecution 
in  the  Old  World,  and  yet  bringing  it  with  them  to  the 
New ;  such  were  the  men  to  whom  this  people  may  trace 
many  of  their  peculiarities.  That  they  were  distinguished 
by  some  of  these  qualities,  was  their  misfortune ;  that  they 
were  marked  by  others,  was  their  crime.  They  and  their 
descendants  spread  through  the  wilderness,  and  solitude 
had  not  the  effect  of  softening  the  asperities  of  faith  or  feel- 
ing. The  spirit  of  social  dependence  became  broken ;  and 
as  ages  passed  on,  and  the  increase  of  population,  and  the 
pursuits  of  ga4n,  induced  them  to  collect  in  masses ;  the 
towns  and  villages  became  peopled  with  men  of  solitary 
habits,  relying  on  their  own  resources,  and  associating 
only  for  the  purposes  of  gain.  Such,  doubtless,  the  New 
Englanders  were ;  and  such  they  are  now,  to  the  observa- 
tion of  a  stranger,  who  is  conscious  of  no  temptation  to 
misrepresent  them. 

The  character  of  the  New  Englanders  is  a  subject  on 
which,  I  confess,  I  feel  tempted  to  be  prolix.  In  truth,  it 
seems  to  me  so  singular  and  anomalous,  so  compounded  of 
what  is  valuable  and  what  is  vile,  that  I  never  feel  cer- 
tain of  having  succeeded  in  expressing  the  precise  combi- 
nation of  feeling  which  it  inspires.  As  a  philanthropist,  I 
should  wish  them  to  be  less  grasping  and  more  contented 
with  the  blessings  they  enjoy,  and  would  willingly  barter 
a.  good  deal  of  vanity,  and  a  little  substantial  knavery,  for 


144  UNITED  STATES  ARMY. 

an  additional  infusion  of  liberal  sentiment,  and  generous 
feeling. 

Springfield  is  the  seat  of  one  of  the  chief  arsenals  and 
manufactories  of  arms  in  the  United  States.  An  officer 
of  artillery  was  good  enough  to  conduct  me  over  these. 
Every  thing  seemed  well  managed,  and  the  machinery  at 
all  points  very  complete.  About  twelve  or  thirteen  thou- 
sand muskets  are  produced  annually.  My  conductor  was 
a  particularly  well-informed  and  obliging  person,  who  had 
lately  returned  from  Europe,  where  he  had  been  sent  to 
receive  instruction  in  regard  to  the  recent  improvements 
,in  gunnery. 

The  officers  of  the  United  States  army  are  better  paid 
than  the  English.  A  captain  receives  about  £400  a-year, 
or  about  £100  more  than  a  lieutenant-colonel  in  our  ser- 
vice. But  there  is  this  difference  between  the  British 
army  and  that  of  the  United  States ;  no  one  can  enter  the 
latter  for  pleasure,  or  to  enjoy  the  enviable  privilege  of 
wearing  an  epaulet  and  an  embroidered  coat.  The  ser- 
vice is  one  of  real  and  almost  constant  privation.  The 
troops  are  scattered  about  in  forts  and  garrisons  in  re- 
mote and  unhealthy  situations,  and  are  never  quartered, 
as  with  us,  in  the  great  cities.  The  principal  stations 
are  on  the  Canadian  and  Indian  frontiers,  and  on  the 
Mississippi;  and  1  imagine  the  sort  of  life  they  lead  there 
would  not  be  greatly  relished  by  his  Majesty's  Coldstrcam 
Guards  or  the  Blues.  I  confess  I  was  rather  surprised  at 
the  smallness  of  the  United  States  army.  It  amounts  only 
to  6000  men,  including  all  arms,  and  I  was  certainly  not 
less  astonished  at  the  enormous  proportion  of  desertions, 
which  are  not  less  than  1000  annually,  or  one-sixth  of  the 
whole  numbers.  Desertions  in  the  British  army  do  not 
exceed  one  in  a  hundred. 

On  the  following  day  the  snow  was  so  deep  as  to  ren- 
der the  road  impassable  for  coaches,  so  with  the  thermo- 
meter fifteen  degrees  below  zero,  1  took  a  sleigh  for  Hart- 
ford, where,  after  a  journey  of  five  hours,  we  were  de- 
posited in  safety.  Hartford  is  a  small  and  apparently  a 
very  busy  town  on  the  Connecticut  river.  It  is  rather  re- 
markable as  being  the  seat  of  the  celebrated  convention, 
which,  during  the  late  war  with  Britain,  threatened  the 
dissolution  of  the  Union. 


CHARACTERISTIC  ANECDOTE.         145 

I  slept  at  Hartford.  The  inn  was  dirty,  but  this  disad- 
vantage was  more  than  counterbalanced  by  its  possession 
of  an  Irish  waiter,  to  whom  nothing  was  impossible,  and 
who  bustled  about  in  my  behalf  with  an  activity  and 
good-will  which  fortunately  it  was  not  difficult  to  repay. 
The  stage  for  New  Haven  did  not  start  till  late  on  the 
following  day,  and  I  had  all  the  morning  on  my  hands. 
What  to  make  of  it  I  did  not  know;  so  I  wandered  about 
the  town,  saw  the  College  and  the  New  Exchange  Build- 
ings, and  a  church,  and  a  jail,  and  a  school,  and  the  Char- 
ter Oak,  and  peeped  into  all  the  shops,  and  then  returned 
to  the  inn  with  the  assured  conviction  that  Hartford  is 
one  of  the  stupidest  places  on  the  surface  of  the  globe.  I 
may  as  well,  however,  relate  a  circumstance  which  hap'- 
pened  here,  since  it  may  perhaps  throw  some  light  on  the 
New  England  character. 

I  had  returned  from  my  ramble,  and  was  sitting  near 
the  stove  in  the  public  room,  engaged  in  the  dullest  of  all 
tasks,  reading  an  American  newspaper,  when  a  woman 
and  a  girl,  about  ten  years  old,  entered,  cold  and  shiver- 
ing, having  just  been  discharged  from  a  Boston  stage- 
coach. The  woman  was  respectable  in  appearance,  ra- 
ther good-looking,  and  evidently  belonging  to  what  may 
in  this  country  be  called  the  middling  class  of  society. 
She  immediately  inquired  at  what  hour  the  steam-boat 
set  off  for  New  York,  and,  on  learning  that  owing  to  the 
river  being  frozen  up,  it  started  from  New  Haven  some 
thirty  miles  lower,  she  was  evidently  much  discomposed, 
and  informed  the  landlord,  that  calculating  on  meeting 
the  steam-boat  that  morning  at  Hartford,  her  pocket  was 
quite  unprepared  for  the  expense  of  a  farther  land  jour- 
ney, and  the  charges  of  different  sorts  necessarily  occa- 
sioned by  a  day's  delay  on  the  road. 

The  landlord  shrugged  up  his  shoulders  aiuKvalked  off; 
the  Irish  waiter  looked  at  her  with  something  of  a  quiz- 
zical aspect,  and  an  elderly  gentleman  engaged  like  my- 
self in  reading  a  newspaper,  raised  his  eyes  for  a  moment, 
discharged  his  saliva  on  the  carpet,  and  then  resumed  his 
occupation.  Though  evidently  without  a  willing  audi- 
ence, the  woman  continued  her  complaints;  informed  us 
she  had  left  her  husband  in  Boston  to  visit  her  brother  in 
New  York ;  explained  and  re-explained  the  cause  of  her 

19 


146         CHARACTERISTIC  ANECDOTE. 

rnisfprtune,  and  a  dozen  times  at  least  concluded  by  an 
assurance, — of  the  truth  of  which  the  whole  party  were 
quite  satisfied, — that  she  was  sadly  puzzled  what  to  do. 

In  such  circumstances,  I  know  not  whether  it  was  be- 
nevolence, or  a  desire  to  put  a  stop  to  her  detestable  ite- 
ration, or  a  mingled  motive  compounded  of  both,  that 
prompted  me  to  offer  to  supply  her  with  any  money  she 
might  require.  However,  I  did  so,  and  the  offer,  though 
not  absolutely  refused,  was  certainly  very  ungraciously 
received.  She  stared  at  me,  expressed  no  thanks,  and 
again  commenced  the  detail  of  her  grievances,  of  which, 
repetition  had  something  staled  the  infinite  variety.  I 
therefore  left  the  apartment.  Shortly  after  the  sleigh  for 
New  Haven  drove  up,  and  I  had  entirely  forgotten  the 
amiable  sufferer  and  her  pecuniary  affliction,  when  she 
came  up,  and  said,  without  any  expression  of  civility, 
"  You  offered  me  money,  I'll  take  it."  I  asked  how  much 
she  wished.  She  answered,  sixteen  dollars,  which  I  im- 
mediately ordered  my  servant  to  give  her.  Being  a 
Scotchman,  however,  he  took  the  prudent  precaution  of 
requesting  her  address  in  New  York,  and  received  a  pro- 
mise that  the  amount  of  her  debt  should  be  transmitted 
to  Bunker's  on  the  following  day. 

Weeks  passed  after  my  arrival  in  New  York,  and  T 
heard  no  more  either  of  the  dollars  or  my  fellow  travel- 
ler, and  being  curious  to  know  whether  I  had  been  cheat- 
ed, I  at  length  sent  to  demand  repayment.  My  servant 
came  back  with  the  money.  He  had  seen  the  woman, 
who  expressed  neither  thanks  nor  gratitude;  and  on  be- 
ing asked  why  she  had  violated  her  promise  to  discharge 
the  debt,  answered  that  she  could  npt  be  at  the  trouble 
of  sending  the  money,  for  she  supposed  it  was  my  business 
to  ask  for  it.  It  should  be  added,  that  the  house  in  which 
she  resided,  was  that  of  her  brother,  a  respectable  shop- 
keeper in  one  of  the  best  streets  in  New  York,  whose 
establishment  certainly  betrayed  no  indication  of  po- 
verty. 

The  truth  is,  that  the  woman  was  very  far  from  being 
a  swindler.  She  was  only  a  Yankee,  and  troubled  with 
an  indisposition — somewhat  endemic  in  New  England — 
to  pay  money.  She  thought,  perhaps,  that  a  man  who 
had  been  so  imprudent  as  to  lend  to  a  stranger,  might  be 


JOURNEY  TO  NEW  YORK.  147 

so  negligent  as  to  forget  to  demand  repayment.  The  ser- 
vant might  have  lost  her  address;  in  short,  it  was  better 
to  take  the  chances,  however  small,  of  ultimately  keep- 
ing the  money,  than  to  restore  it  unasked.  All  this  might 
be  very  sagacious,  but  it  certainly  was  nbt  very  high- 
principled  or  very  honest. 

It  was  late  before  we  reached  New  Haven,  and  the 
greater  part  of  the  journey  was  performed  in  the  dark. 
The  inn  was  so  crowded,  that  the  landlord  told  me  fairly 
he  could  not  give  me  a  bed.  I  then  requested  a  sofa  arid 
a  blanket,  but  with  no  greater  success.  However,  he 
proved  better  than  his  wot d:  I  was  shown  to  £  sort  6f 
dog-hole  without  plaster,  which  I  verily  believe  was  the 
dormitory  of  the  black  waiter,  who  was  displaced  on  my 
account.  The  smell  of  the  bed  was  most  offensive,  the 
sheets  were  dirty,  and  the  coverlet  had  the  appearance  of 
an  old  horse-cloth.  The  only  other  furniture  in  the  apart- 
ment was  a  table  and  a  wooden  chair;  no  glass,  no  wash- 
ing-stand, no  towels.  These  articles  were  promised  in 
the  morning,  but  they  never  came,  though  most  impor- 
tunately demanded.  The  heat  of  the  crowded  sitting- 
room  was  intense ;  the  temperature  of  the  bed-room  vyas 
in  the  opposite  extreme.  At  length,  driven  from  the  for- 
mer, I  wrapped  myself  in  my  cloak,  and  sought  slumber 
on  the  filthy  mass  of  flock  from  which  its  usual  sable  oc- 
cupant had  been  expelled; 

Cold  weather  and  strong  odours  are  not  favourable  to 
sleep.  In  about  two  hours  I  arose,  and  exploring  my 
way  to  the  sitting-room,  now  untenanted,  passed  the  rest 
of  the  night  in  a  chair  by  the  fire.  The  steam-boat  was 
to  start  at  five  in  the  morning,  and  at  half-past  four  se- 
veral coaches  drove  up  to  convey  the  passengers  to  the 
quay.  I  saw  nothing  of  New  Haven,  and  its  associations 
in  my  memory  are  certairily  far  from  pleasant.  It  was 
with  satisfaction  I  reached  the  steamboat,  and  bade  fare- 
well to  it  for  ever. 

The  night  concluded,  however,  more  fortunately  than 
it  commenced.  I  procured  a  berth  in  the  steam-boat, 
and  was  only  roused  from  a  comfortable  snoose  by  the 
announcement  of  breakfast,  and  the  clatter  of  knives  and 
plates  which  immediately  succeeded  it.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances, I  had  experience  enough  to  know  that  no 


148  INTELLIGENCE  FROM  ENGLAND. 

time  was  to  be  lost.  There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  steam- 
passengers  in  America,  which  must  be  taken  at  the  flood 
in  order  to  lead  either  to  breakfast  or  dinner.  A  minute, 
therefore,  was  enough  to  find  me  seated  at  the  table,  and 
contributing  my  strenuous  efforts  to  the  work  of  destruc- 
tion. Breakfast  was  succeeded  by  the  still  greater  luxury 
of  basin  and  towel,  and  when  I  went  on  deck,  a  few  whiffs 
of  a  cigar,  and  the  fine  scenery  of  Long  Island  Sound,  had 
the  effect  of  obliterating  all  trace  of  the  disagreeables  of 
the  night. 

The  voyage  was  pleasant  and  prosperous;  the  weather, 
though  still  cold,  was  clear,  and  before  day  closed,  I  again 
found  myself  at  New  York. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


NEW  YORK. 

ON  the  day  after  my  arrival  at  New  York,  the  city 
was  thrown  into  a  bustle  by  the  intelligence  that  a 
packet  from  Liverpool  had  been  telegraphed  in  the  offing. 
Owing  to  the  prevalence  of  contrary  winds,  an  unusual 
period  had  elapsed  without  an  arrival  from  Europe,  and 
the  whole  population  seemed  agog  for  news.  I  dined  that 
day  with  a  friend;  and  as  there  was  no  party,  and  we 
were  both  anxious  to  receive  the  earliest  intelligence,  he 
proposed  our  walking  to  the  News-room,  and  afterwards 
returning  to  wine  and  the  dessert.  On  approaching  the 
house,  we  found  some  thousands  of  people  collected  about 
the  door,  and  in  the  window  was  exhibited  a  placard  of 
the  following  import : — "  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Minis- 
try resigned;  Lord  Grey,  Premier;  Brougham,  Lord 
Chancellor,"  &c. 

It  was  impossible  not  to  be  struck  with  the  extreme 
interest  this  intelligence  excited.  Here  and  there  were 
groups  of  quidnuncs  engaged  in  earnest  discussion  on 
the  consequences  of  this  portentous  intelligence.  Some 
anticipated  immediate  revolution;  a  sort  of  second  edi- 


PUBLIC  HALL.  149 

tion  of  the  Three  Days  of  Paris.  Others  were  disposed 
to  think  that  Revolution,  though  inevitable,  would  be 
more  gradual.  A  third  party  looked  forward  to  the 
speedy  restoration  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  to  power. 
But  all  partook  of  the  pervading  excitement,  and  the 
sensation  produced  by  these  changes  in  the  government, 
could  scarcely  have  been  greater  in  Liverpool  than  in 
New  York. 

On  the  last  night  of  the  year  there  was  a  public  assem- 
bly, to  which  I  received  the  honour  of  an  invitation. 
The  ball-rooms  were  very  tolerable,  but  the  entrance 
detestable.  It  led  close  past  the  bar  of  the  City  Hotel, 
and  the  ladies,  in  ascending  the  stair,  which,  by  the  by, 
was  offensively  dirty,  must  have  been  drenched  with  to- 
bacco-smoke. Within,  however,  I  found  assembled  a 
great  deal  of  beauty.  At  seventeen,  nothing  can  be 
prettier  than  a  smiling  damsel  of  New  York.  At  twen- 
ty-two, the  same  damsel,  metamorphosed  into  a  matron, 
has  lost  a  good  deal  of  her  attraction.  I  had  never  been  in 
so  large  and  miscellaneous  a  party  before.  I  looked 
about  for  solecisms  of  deportment,  but  could  detect  none 
on  the  part  of  the  ladies.  There  was,  however,  a  sort 
of  Transatlanticism  about  them;  and  even  their  numerous 
points  of  resemblance  to  my  fair  countrywomen,  had  the 
effect  of  marking  out  certain  shadowy  differences,  to  be 
felt  rather  than  described. 

There  was  certainly  an  entire  absence  of  what  the 
French  call  Vair  noble, — of  that  look  of  mingled  ele- 
gance and  distinction  which  commands  admiration  ra- 
ther than  solicits  it.  Yet  the  New  York  ladies  are  not 
vulgar.  Far  from  it.  I  mean  only  to  say  that  they  are' 
not  precisely  European;  and  with  the  possession  of  sa 
much  that  is  amiable  and  attractive,  they  may  safely 
plead  guilty  to  want  of  absolute  conformity  to  an  arbi- 
trary standard,  the  authority  of  which  they  are  not 
bound  to  acknowledge. 

But  what  shall  be  said  of  the  gentlemen?  Why,  sim- 
ply that  a  party  of  the  new  police,  furnished  forth  with 
the  requisite  toggery,  would  have  played  their  part  in 
the  ball-room,  with  about  as  much  grace.  There  is  a 
certain  uncontrollable  rigidity  of  muscle  about  an  Ame- 
rican, and  a  want  of  sensibility  to  the  lighter  graces  of 


AMERICAN  DANDiES. 

deportment,  which  makes  him,  perhaps,  the  most  un- 
hopeful of  all  the  votaries  of  Terpischore.  In  this  re- 
spect the  advantage  is  altogether  on  the  side  of  the  ladies. 
Their  motions  are  rarely  inelegant,  and  never  grotesque. 
I  leave  it  to  other  travellers  to  extend  this  praise  to  the 
gentlemen. 

An  American  dandy  is  a  being  sui  generis.  He  has 
probably  travelled  in  Europe,  and  brought  back  to  his 
own  country,  a  large  stock  of  second-rate  fopperies,  rings, 
trinkets,  and  gold  chains,  which  he  displays,  evidently 
with  full  confidence  in  their  powers  of  captivation.  For 
a  season  after  his  return  he  is  all  the  fashion.  He  sug- 
gests new  improvements  in  quadrille  dancing,  artd  every 
flourish  of  his  tde  becomes  the  object  of  sedulous  imita- 
tion. Tailors  wait  on  him  to  request  the  privilege  of 
inspecting  his  wardrobe.  His  untravelled  companions 
regard  with  envy  his  profusion  of  jewellery  and  waist- 
coats of  figured  velvet.  He  talks  of  "  Dukes  and  Earls, 
and  all  their  sweeping  train;  and  garters,  stars  and  coro- 
nets appear "  in  his  conversation,  as  if  such  things  had 
been  familiar  to  him  from  his  infancy.  In  short,  he 
reigns  for  a  time  the  Magnus  Jlpollo  of  his  native  town, 
and  his  decrees  in  all  matters  of  taste  are  received  as  the 
oracles  of  the  god. 

But  time  passes  on.  The  traveller  has  returned  to 
the  vulgar  drudgery  of  the  counting-house;  his  coats, 
like  his  affectations,  become  threadbare,  artd  are  replaced 
by  the  more  humble  productions  of  native  artists;  later 
tourists  have  been  the  heralds  of  newer  fashions  and  fop- 
peries; his  opinions  are  no  longer  treated  with  deference; 
he  sinks  to  the  level  of  other  men,  and  the  vulgar  dandy 
is  gradually  changed  into  a  plain  American  citizen,  con- 
tent with  the  comforts  of  life;  without  concerning  him- 
self about  its  elegancies. 

The  ball  was  very  pleasant,  and  one  of  its  chief  agft- 
mens  undoubtedly  was  an  excellent  supper.  The  oyster- 
soup,  a  favourite  dish  in  this  part  of  the  world,  was  all 
that  Dr.  Kitchiner  could  have  desired.  Turkey,  ham; 
terrapin — a  sort  of  land  crab,  on  which  I  have  not  ven- 
tured—jellies, creams,  ices,  fruit,  hot  punch,  and  cold 
lemonade,  were  in  profusion.  Having  afterwards  re- 
mained to  witness  some  badly  danced  quadrilles,  and  the 


NEW-YEAR'S  DAY.  151 

perpetration  of  the  first  gallopade  ever  attempted  on  the 
American  continent,  I  returned  to  take  "  my  pleasure  in 
mine  inn." 

It  is  the  custom  in  New  York,  on  the  first  day  of  the 
year,  for  the  gentlemen  to  visit  all  their  acquaintances; 
and  the  omission  of  this  observance  in  regard  to  any  par- 
ticular family,  would  be  considered  as  a  decided  slight. 
The  clergy,  also,  hold  a  levee  on  this  day,  which  is  at- 
tended by  their  congregation.  For  my  own  part,  I  con- 
fess, I  found  the  custom  rather  inconvenient,  there  being 
about  thirty  families,  whose  attentions  rendered  such  an 
acknowledgment  indispensable.  Determined,  hqwever, 
to  fail  in  nothing  which  could  mark  my  sense  of  the 
kindness  of  my  friends,  I  ordered  a  coach,  and  set  forth, 
at  rather  an  early  hour  on  this  task  of  visit-paying. 

The  first  person  on  whom  I  waited  was  Dr.  Wainright, 
the  clergyman  of  Gracechurch,  in  whose  society  I  had 
often  experienced  much  pleasure.  I  found  him  attired 
in  full  canonicals,  with  a  table  displaying  a  profusion  of 
wine  and  cake,  and  busied  in  conversing  and  shaking 
hands  with  his  parishioners.  Having  paid  my  compli- 
ments, I  proceeded  on  my  progress,  and  in  the  course 
of  about  four  hours  had  the  satisfaction  of  believing  that 
I  had  discharged  my  duty,  though  not, — as  I  afterwards 
remembered, — without  some  omissions,  which  I  trust 
my  friends  were  good  enough  to  forgive. 

The  routine  is  as  follows?  The  ladies  of  a  family  re- 
main at  home  to  receive  visits;  the  gentlemen  are  abroad, 
actively  engaged  in  paying  them.  You  enter,  shake 
hands,  are  seated,  talk  for  a  minute  or  two  on  the  topics 
of  the  day,  then  hurry  off  as  fast  as  you  can.  Wine  and 
cake  are  on  the  table,  of  which  each  visiter  is  invited  ta 
partake.  The  custom  is  of  Dutch  origin,  and,  I  believe, 
does  not  prevail  in  any  other  city  of  the  Union.  I  am 
told  its  influence  on  the  social  intercourse  of  families,  is 
very  salutary.  The  first  day  of  the  year  is  considered 
a  day  of  kindness  and  reconciliation,  on  which  petty  dif- 
ferences are  forgotten,  and  trifling  injuries  forgiven.  It 
sometimes  happens,  that  between  friends  long  connected, 
a  misunderstanding  takes  place.  Each  is  too  proud  to 
make  concessions,  alienation  follows,  and  thus  are  two, 
families,  very  probably,  permanently  estranged.  But; 


15a  NAVY  YARD. 

on  this  day  of  annual  amnesty,  each  of  the  offended  par- 
ties calls  on  the  wife  of  the  other,  kind  feelings  are  re- 
called, past  grievances  overlooked,  and  at  their  next 
meeting  they  take  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  are  again 
friends. 

In  company  with  a  most  intelligent  and  kind  friend, 
who  was  lately  mayor  of  the  city,  I  visited  the  Navy 
yard  at  Brooklyn.  Commodore  Chauncey,  the  com- 
mander, is  a  fine  specimen  of  an  old  sailor  of  the  true 
breed.  He  has  a  good  deal  of  the  Benbow  about  him, 
and  one  cai  read  in  his  open  and  weather-beaten  coun- 
tenance, that  it  has  long  braved  both  the  battle  and  the 
breeze.  He  took  us  over  several  men-of-war,  and  a  fri- 
gate yet  on  the  stocks,  which  appeared  the  most  splendid 
vessel  of  her  class  I  had  ever  seen.  American  men-of- 
war  are  built  chiefly  of  live  oak,  the  finest  and  most  du- 
rable material  in  the  world. 

Every  thing  in  these  navy  yards  is  conducted  with 
admirable  judgment,  for  the  plain  reason,  as  the  Ameri- 
cans themselves  assure  me,  that  the  management  of  the 
navy  is  a  department  in  which  the  mob,  every  where 
else  triumphant,  never  venture  to  interfere.  There  is 
good  sense  in  this  abstinence.  The  principles  of  govern- 
ment, which  are  applicable  to  a  civil  community,  would 
make  sad  work  in  a  man-of-war.  The  moment  a  sailor 
is  afloat,  he  must  cast  the  slough  of  democracy,  and  both 
in  word  and  action  cease  to  be  a  free  man.  Every  ship 
is  necessarily  a  despotism,  and  the  existence  of  any  thing 
like  a  deliberative  body,  is  utterly  incompatible  with 
safety.  The  necessity  of  blind  obedience  is  imperious, 
though  it  is  not  easy  to  understand  how  those  accustomed 
ito  liberty  and  equality  on  shore,  can  readily  submit  to  the 
rigours  of  naval  discipline. 

In  the  same  excellent  company  I  made  the  round  of 
the  most  interesting  public  institutions  of  the  city — the 
House  of  Refuge  for  juvenile  delinquents,  the  Deaf  and 
Dumb  Asylum,  and  the  Asylum  for  Lunatics.  All  are 
conducted  with  exemplary  judgment,  and  benevolence 
exerted  with  an  ardent  but  enlightened  zeal  for  the  gene- 
ral interests  of  humanity.  The  first  of  these  institutions 
is  particularly  laudable,  both  as  respects  its  objects  and 
management.  It  is  an  asylum  for  juvenile  offenders  of 


POLITICAL  PARTIES.  153 

both  sexes,  who,  by  being  thrown  into  the  depraved  so- 
ciety of  a  common  jail,  would,  in  all  probability,  grow 
up  into  hardened  and  incorrigible  criminals.  In  this  in- 
stitution, they  are  taught  habits  of  regular  industry;  are 
instructed  in  the  principles  of  religion,  and  when  dis- 
missed, they  enter  the  world  with  ample  means  at  com- 
mand of  earning  an  honest  livelihood. 

The  girls  are  generally  bred  up  as  sempstresses  or  do- 
mestic servants;  and  on  quitting  the  institution,  are  uni- 
formly sent  to  a  part  of  the  country,  where  their  previous 
history  is  unknown.  By  this  judicious  arrangement, 
they  again  start  fair,  with  the  full  advantage  of  an  un- 
blemished character.  The  establishment  seemed  a  per- 
fect hive  of  industry.  The  taste  and  talent  of  the  boys 
is  consulted  in  the  choice  of  a  trade.  There  were  young 
carpenters  and  blacksmiths,  tailors  and  brushmakers,  and 
Lilliputian  artificers  of  various  kinds,  all  busily  engaged 
in  their  peculiar  handicraft.  Though  looking  at  the 
details  of  the  establishment  with  a  critical  eye,  I  could 
detect  no  fault  in  any  department.  There  can  be  no 
doubt,  I  think,  that  the  benevolence  to  which  this  insti- 
tution is  indebted  for  its  origin  and  support,  is  of  the  most 
enlightened  kind. 

I  have  not  yet  spoken  of  the  political  parties  in  this 
country,  and,  in  truth,  the  subject  is  so  complicated  with 
opinions  continually  varying,  and  interests  peculiar  to 
particular  districts,  and  includes  the  consideration  of  so 
many  topics,  apparently  unconnected  with  politics  alto- 
gether, that  I  now  enter  on  it  with  little  expectation  of 
making  it  completely  intelligible  to  an  English  reader. 
Of  course,  all  the  world  knows  that  the  population  of  the 
Union  is,  or  was,  divided  into  two  great  parties,  entitled 
Federalist  and  Republican.  These  terms,  however,  by 
no  means  accurately  express  the  differences  which  divide 
them.  Both  parties  are  Federalist,  and  both  Republican: 
but  the  former  favour  the  policy  of  granting  wider  pow- 
ers to  the  Federal  legislature  and  executive;  of  asserting 
their  control  over  the  State  governments;  of  guarding  the 
Constitution  against  popular  encroachment;  in  short,  of 
strengthening  the  bonds  of  public  union,  and  maintaining 
a  presiding  power  of  sufficient  force  and  energy,  to  over- 

20 


154  POLITICAL  PARTIES. 

awe  turbulence  at  home,  and  protect  the  national  honour 
and  interests  abroad. 

The  Democratic  Republican,  on  the  other  hand,  would 
-enlarge,  to  the  utmost  extent,  the  political  influence  of 
the  people.  He  is  in  favour  of  universal  suffrage;  a  de- 
pendent judiciary;  a  strict  and  literal  interpretation  of 
the  articles  of  the  Constitution,  and  regards  the  Union 
•imply  as  a  voluntary  league  between  sovereign  and  in- 
dependent States,  each  of  which  possesses  the  inalienable 
right  of  deciding  on  the  legality  of  the  measures  of  the 
general  government.  The  Federalist,  in  short,  is  dis- 
posed to  regard  the  United  States  as  one  and  indivisible, 
and  the  authority  of  the  United  government  as  paramount 
to  every  other  jurisdiction.  The  Democrat  considers  the 
Union  as  a  piece  of  mosaic,  tasselated  with  stones  of  dif- 
ferent colours,  curiously  put  together,  but  possessing  no 
other  principle  of  cohesion  than  that  of  mutual  conve- 
nience. The  one  regards  the  right  of  withdrawing  from 
the  national  confederacy  as  indefeasible  in  each  of  its 
members;  the  other  denies  the  existence  of  such  right, 
and  maintains  the  Federal  government  to  be  invested 
with  the  power  of  enforcing  its  decrees  within  the  limits 
of  the  Union. 

During  the  period  succeeding  the  Revolution,  New 
England,  pre-eminent  in  wealth,  population,  aod  intelli- 
gence, gave  her  principles  to  the  Union.  The  two  first 
presidents  were  both  Federalists,  but  their  political  oppo- 
nents were  rapidly  increasing  both  in  numbers  and  viru- 
lence., and  even  the  services,  the  high  name,  and  unsul- 
lied character  of  Washington,  were  not  sufficient  to  pro- 
tect him  from  the  grossest  and  most  slanderous  attacks. 
Adams  succeeded  him,  and  certainly  did  something  to 
merit  the  imputations  which  had  been  gratuitously  cast 
on  his  predecessor.  His  sedition  law  was  bad;  the  pro- 
secutions under  it  still  worse,  and  in  the  very  first  strug- 
gle ke  was  driven  from  office,  to  return  to  it  no  more.  * 

*  Carey,  in  the  Olive  Branch,  mentions  a  prosecution  under  this  act, 
in  which  a  New  Jersey  man  was  tried  and  punished  for  expressing  a  de- 
sire, that  the  wadding  of  a  gun  discharged  on  a  festival  day,  "  had  singed 
or  otherwise  inflicted  damage  on  "  a  certain  inexpressible  part  of  Mr. 
Adams!  After  such  a  prosecution,  one  is  only  temp  ted  to  regret  that 
the  efficiency  of  the  wish  was  not  equal  to  its  patriotism. 


POLITICAL  PARTIES.  155 

It  is  evident  that  a  constitution,  however  precisely  de- 
fined, must  differ  in  its  practical  operation,  according  to 
the  principles  on  which  it  is  administered.  From  the 
period  of  Jefferson's  accession  to  power,  a  change  in  this 
respect  took  place.  The  government  was  then  adminis- 
tered on  democratic  principles;  a  silent  revolution  was 
going  forward;  the  principles,  opinions,  and  habits  of  the 
people,  all  tended  towards  the  wider  extension  of  politi- 
cal rights;  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  war  with  Eng- 
land, the  Federalists  became  at  length  convinced,  that 
the  objects  for  which  they  had  so  long  strenuously  been 
contending,  were  utterly  unattainable.  Farther  conten- 
tion, therefore,  was  useless.  The  name  of  Federalist  had 
become  odious  to  the  people;  it  was  heard  no  more.  No 
candidate  for  public  favour  ventured  to  come  forward  and 
declare  his  conviction,  that  a  government,  which  looked 
for  support  to  the  prejudices  of  the  populace,  was  neces- 
sarily less  secure  and  beneficial  than  one  which  repre- 
sented the  deliberate  convictions  of  the  wealthier  and 
more  enlightened. 

The  result  of  all  this  was,  an  apparent  harmony  of  po- 
litical principle  throughout  the  Union.  Open  differences 
of  opinion  were  no  longer  expressed,  as  to  the  broad  and 
fundamental  doctrines  of  government.  The  ascendancy 
of  numbers,  in  opposition  to  that  of  property  and  intelli- 
gence, had  been  firmly  established:  the  people,  in  the 
widest  sense  of  the  term,  had  been  recognised  as  the  only 
source  of  power  and  of  honour;  and  the  government, 
instead  of  attempting  to  control  and  regulate  the  passions 
and  prejudices  of  the  multitude,  were  forced,  by  the  ne- 
cessity of  their  situation,  to  adopt  them  as  the  guide  and 
standard  of  their  policy.  They  were  compelled,  in  short, 
to  adopt  the  measures,  and  profess  the  principles  most 
palatable  to  the  people,  instead  of  those  which  wider 
knowledge  and  keener  sagacity  might  indicate  as  most 
for  their  advantage. 

I  remember  one  of  my  first  impressions  in  the  United 
States  was  that  of  surprise,  at  the  harmony  in  regard  to 
the  great  principles  of  government,  which  seemed  to  per- 
vade all  classes  of  the  community.  In  every  thing  con- 
nected with  men  and  measures,  however,  all  was  clamour 
and  confusion.  The  patriot  of  one  company  was  the 


156  SUPPRESSION  OF  FEDERALISM. 

scoundrel  of  the  next,  and  to  an  uninterested  observer, 
the  praise  and  the  abuse  seemed  both  to  rest  on  a  foun- 
dation too  narrow  to  afford  support  to  such  disproportion- 
ate superstructures.  Parties  there  evidently  were,  but  it 
was  not  easy  to  become  master  of  the  distinctions  on 
which  they  rested.  I  asked  for  the  Federalists,  and  was 
told  that  like  the  mammoth,  and  the  megatherion,  they 
had  become  extinct,  and  their  principles  delighted  hu- 
manity no  longer.  I  asked  for  the  Democrats,  and  I  was 
desired  to  look  on  the  countenance  of  every  man  I  met 
in  the  street.  This  puzzled  me,  for  the  principles  of 
this  exploded  party,  appeared,  in  my  deliberate  convic- 
tion, to  be  those  most  in  accordance  with  political  wis- 
dom, and  I  had  little  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  sudden  con- 
versions, either  in  politics  or  religion. 

In  such  circumstances,  instead  of  attempting  to  grope 
my  way  to  a  conclusion,  by  any  dark  and  doubtful  hy- 
pothesis, I  determined  to  demand  information  from  those 
best  calculated  to  afford  it.  I,  therefore,  explained  my 
difficulties  to  one  of  the  most  eminent  individuals  of  the 
Union,  whom  I  knew  at  least  to  have  been  formerly  a 
Federalist.  "  How  comes  it,"  I  asked,  "that  the  party 
which  you  formerly  adorned  by  your  talents  and  elo- 
quence, is  no  longer  to  be  found  1  Is  it,  that  the  pro- 
gress of  events,  increased  experience,  and  more  delibe- 
rate and  enlightened  views,  have  induced  you  to  relin- 
quish your  former  tenets;  or,  that  still  entertaining  the 
same  opinions,  you  are  simply  withheld  by  policy  from 
expressing  them?"  His  answer-— in  substance  as  follows 
— was  too  striking  to  be  forgotten.  "My  opinions,  and 
I  believe  those  of  the  party  to  which  I  belonged,  are  un- 
changed; and  the  course  of  events  in  this  country  has 
been  such,  as  to  impress  only  a  deeper  and  more  tho- 
rough conviction  of  their  wisdom.  But,  in  the  present 
state  of  public  feeling,  we  dare  not  express  them.  An 
individual  professing  such  opinions,  would  not  only  find 
himself  excluded  from  every  office  of  public  trust,  with- 
in the  scope  of  his  reasonable  ambition,  but  he  would 
be  regarded  by  his  neighbours  and  fellow-citizens  with  an 
evil  eye.  His  words  and  actions  would  become  the  ob- 
jects of  jealous  and  malignant  scrutiny,  and  he  would  have 
to  sustain  the  unceasing  attacks  of  a  host  of  unscrupulous 


INTERNAL  IMPROVEMENTS.  157 

and  ferocious  assailants.  And  for  what  object  is  his  life 
to  be  thus  imbittered,  and  he  is  to  be  cut  off  from  the 
common  objects  of  honourable  ambition?  Why,  for  the 
satisfaction  of  expressing  his  adherence  to  an  obsolete 
creed,  and  his  persuasion  of  the  wisdom  of  certain  doc- 
trines of  government,  which  his  judgment  assures  him, 
are  utterly  impracticable  in  the  present  condition  of  so- 
ciety." 

When  the  Americans  do  agree,  therefore^  their  unani- 
mity is  really  not  very  wonderful,  seeing  it  proceeds 
from  the  observance  of  the  good  old  rule,  of  punishing 
all  difference  of  opinion.  The  consequence,  however, 
has  been,  not  the  eradication  of  federal  principles,  but  a 
discontinuance  of  their  profession.  The  combatants 
fight  under  a  new  banner,  but  the  battle  is  not  less  bitter 
on  that  account.  There  is  no  longer  any  question  with 
regard  to  increase  of  power  on  the  part  of  the  general 
government;  that  has  long  since  been  decided;  but  the 
point  of  contention  now  is,  whether  it  shall  keep  that 
authority  with  which  it  is  at  present  understood  to  be 
invested.  But  even  this  substantial  ground  of  difference 
is  rarely  brought  prominently  forward  in  debate.  The 
struggle  generally  is  with  regard  to  particular  measures, 
involving  many  collateral  interests,  but  which  are  felt  to 
have  a  tendency  to  one  side  or  the  other. 

Thus,  one  great  subject  of  discussion  relates  to  the 
power  of  the  government  to  expend  a  portion  of  the  na- 
tional funds  in  internal  improvements.  In  1830,  a  bill, 
which  had  passed  the  legislature  for  the  construction  of 
a  national  road,  was  returned  with  the  veto  of  the  Pre- 
sident. By  the  articles  of  the  constitution,  the  federal 
legislature  are  invested  with  the  power  of  "establishing 
post-offices  and  post-roads."  The  doubt  is,  whether  the 
word  establish  gives  the  privilege  to  construct)  or,  is  to 
be  understood  as  simply  granting  authority  to  convert 
into  post-roads,  thoroughfares  already  in  existence.  A 
principle  of  great  importance  is,  no  doubt,  involved  in 
this  question,  since  by  it  must  be  decided  whether  the 
federal  government  have  the  power  of  adopting  any  ge- 
neral system  of  improvements,  or  of  executing  public 
works  with  a  view  to  the  national  advantage.  The  ex- 
istence of  such  a  power  would,  no  doubt,  materially  tend 


158  POLITICAL  DIFFERENCES. 

to  strengthen  its  influence,  and  this,  which  is  a  recom- 
mendation with  one  party,  constitutes  the  chief  objection 
with  the  other.  General  Jackson  is  the  leading  cham- 
pion on  the  one  side;  Mr.  Clay,  his  opponent  for  the 
Presidency,  on  the  other.  The  latter  is  backed  by  the 
northern  and  a  considerable  portion  of  the  Central  States; 
the  former  by  the  Southern  and  Western. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  I  imagine,  that  the  Federal- 
ists, in  supporting  the  affirmative  of  this  question,  are 
influenced  by  the  tendency  of  the  opinions  they  advo- 
cate, to  enlarge  and  strengthen  the  power  of  the  execu- 
tive, but  the  grounds  on  which  they  attempt  to  gain  pro- 
selytes are  entirely  collateral.  They  urge  the  general 
expediency  of  such  a  power;  the  impossibility  of  in- 
ducing the  legislatures  of  the  different  States  to  concur 
heartily  in  any  one  project  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole; 
the  necessity  of  unity  of  execution,  as  well  as  unity  of 
design;  and  the  probability,  that,  if  such  improvements 
are  not  undertaken  by  the  federal  government,  they  will 
never  be  executed  at  all. 

Of  course,  such  questions  as  the  tariff,  and  that  of 
which  I  have  just  spoken,  are  not  exclusively  decided 
by  political  principle.  Private  interest  steps  in;  many 
of  the  democratic  party  adopt  the  views  of  their  oppo- 
nents on  some  single  question  of  policy,  and  where  that 
is  of  great  importance,  range  themselves  under  the  same 
banner.  Thus,  a  candidate  for  Congress  is  often  sup- 
ported by  men  differing  on  many  questions,  and  agree- 
ing only  in  one.  Commercial  men  are  usually  in  favour 
of  the  system  of  internal  improvements,  because  these 
must  generally  bring  with  them  increased  facilities  for 
commerce.  A  new  road  may  open  a  new  market;  the 
deepening  of  a  harbour  may  change  the  whole  aspect  of 
a  province;  and  those,  who,  by  their  local  position  or 
pursuits  are  more  immediately  interested  in  these  bene- 
fits, may  be  pardoned,  if,  on  an  occasion  of  such  moment, 
they  lay  aside  their  principles,  and  act  on  the  narrower 
and  stronger  motive  of  personal  advantage. 

In  a  country  of  such  extraordinary  extent  as  the 
United  States,  there  are,  of  course,  a  vast  number  of  lo- 
cal interests,  which  modify  the  application  of  theoretical 
principle.  In  the  representative  of  each  district,  some 


MASONRY.  159 

peculiarity  of  creed  is  commonly  necessary  to  secure  the 
support  of  his  constituents.  Conformity  on  leading 
points  of  opinion  is  not  enough;  there  is  almost  always 
some  topic,  however  unconnected  with  politics,  on  which 
coincidence  of  sentiment  is  demanded.  I  may  quote  a 
striking  instance  of  this  in  the  State  of  New  York. 

Some  years  ago,  a  man  of  the  name  of  Morgan,  who 
wrote  a  book,  revealing  the  secrets  of  Free  Masonry, 
was  forcibly  seized  in  his  own  dwelling-house,  carried 
off,  and  murdered.  Of  the  latter  fact,  there  is  no  direct 
proof,  but  it  is  impossible  to  account  for  the  circum- 
stances on  any  other  supposition.  He  is  known  to  have 
been  conveyed  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Niagara,  and 
there  is  evidence  of  his  having  passed  a  night  there;  but 
from  that  period  to  the  present,  no  traces  of  the  unfor- 
tunate man  have  ever  been  discovered.  Of  course,  the 
vigilance  of  justice  was  aroused  by  this  outrage.  The 
public  prosecutor  was  long  unsuccessful  in  his  attempts 
to  bring  the  criminals  to  trial.  At  length,  however, 
strong  circumstantial  evidence  was  obtained,  which  went 
to  fix  participation  in  the  crime  on  two  individuals. 
They  were  brought  to  trial.  A  majority  of  the  jury  had 
no  doubt  of  their  guilt,  but  the  minority  thought  other- 
wise, and  the  men  were  acquitted. 

The  circumstance  of  the  jurymen  who  procured  the 
acquittal  being  Free  Masons,  contributed  to  inflame  the 
public  indignation,  already  strongly  excited  by  the  ori- 
ginal outrage.  The  principles  of  this  secret  society  had 
not  only  caused  crime  to  be  committed,  but  justice  to  be 
denied.  Unquestionably,  Free  Masonry  had  given  rise 
to  murder;  and,  as  unquestionably,  in  the  opinion  of 
many,  its  influence  had  secured  impunity  to  the  offend- 
ers. The  question  thus  arose, — is  a  society  which  pro- 
duces such  consequences  to  be  tolerated  in  a  Christian 
community?  A  large  portion  of  the  people  banded  to- 
gether in  hostility  to  all  secret  and  affiliated  societies. 
They  pronounced  them  dangerous  and  unconstitutional, 
and  pledged  themselves  to  exert  their  utmost  efforts  for 
their  suppression. 

The  Masons,  on  the  other  hand,  were  a  widely  rami- 
fied and  powerful  body,  embracing,  in  their  number, 
nearly  half  the  population  of  the  State.  Their  constitu- 


160  DIFFICULTY  OF  UNDERSTANDING 

tion  gave  them  the  advantage  of  unity  of  purpose  and  of 
action.  The  keenness  of  contest,  of  course,  excited  the 
passions  of  both  parties.  The  public  press  ranged  itself 
on  different  sides:  every  candidate  for  office  was  com- 
pelled to  make  confession  of  his  creed  on  this  important 
subject,  and  to  fight  under  the  banner  of  one  party  or  the 
other;  and  the  distinction  of  Mason  or  Anti-Mason  su- 
perseded, if  it  did  not  extinguish  those  arising  from  dif- 
ferences more  legitimately  political.  In  the  late  elec- 
tions, the  Masonic  party  were  triumphant;  but  the  strug- 
gle is  still  carried  on  with  vigour,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  votes  in  the  next  presidential  election  will  be 
materially  affected  by  it.  Indeed,  the  mania  on  the  sub- 
ject is  daily  spreading.  It  was,  at  first,  exclusively  con- 
fined to  the  State  of  New  York;  it  is  now  becoming  dif- 
fused over  the  New  England  States  and  Pennsylvania. 

It  is  such  collateral  influences  which  puzzle  an  Eng- 
lishman, when  he  attempts  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  state  of  parties  in  this  country.  He  looks  for  the 
broad  distinction  of  political  principle,  and  he  finds  men 
fighting  about  Masonry,  or  other  matters  which  have  no 
apparent  bearing  on  the  great  doctrines  of  government. 
He  finds  general  opinions  modified  by  local  interests,  and 
seeks  in  vain  to  discover  some  single  and  definite  ques- 
tion which  may  serve  as  a  touchstone  of  party  distinc- 
tions. It  is  only  by  acute  and  varied  observation,  and 
by  conversation  with  enlightened  men  of  all  parties, 
that  he  is  enabled  to  make  due  allowance  for  the  varia- 
tions of  the  political  compass,  and  judge  accurately  of 
the  course  which  the  vessel  is  steering. 

The  Americans  have  a  notion  that  they  are  a  people 
not  easily  understood,  and  that  to  comprehend  their  cha- 
racter requires  a  long  apprenticeship  of  philosophical  ob- 
servation, and  more  both  of  patience  and  liberality  than 
are  usually  compatible  with  the  temper  and  prejudices 
of  foreign  travellers.  This  is  a  mistake.  The  peculia- 
rities of  the  Americans  lie  more  on  the  surface  than 
those  of  any  peopfe  I  have  ever  known.  Their  features 
are  broad  and  marked;  there  exists  little  individual  ec- 
centricity of  character,  and  it  is  in  their  political  rela- 
tions alone  that  they  are  difficult  to  be  understood.  One 
fact,  however,  is  confessed  by  all  parties,  that  the  pro- 


POLITICAL  DIFFERENCES  IN  AMERICA.  161 

gress  of  democratic  principles  from  the  period  of  the  re- 
volution has  been  very  great.  During  my  whole  resi- 
dence in  the  United  States,  I  conversed  with  no  enlight- 
ened Americans,  who  did  not  confess,  that  the  constitu- 
tion now,  though  the  same  in  letter  with  that  established 
in  1789,  is  essentially  different  in  spirit.  It  was  un- 
doubtedly the  wish  of  Washington  and  Hamilton  to 
counterpoise,  as  much  as  circumstances  would  permit, 
the  rashness  of  democracy  by  the  caution  and  wisdom  of 
an  aristocracy  of  intelligence  and  wealth.  There  is  now 
no  attempt  at  counterpoise.  The  weight  is  all  in  one 
scale,  and  how  low,  by  continued  increase  of  pressure, 
it  is  yet  to  descend,  would  require  a  prophet  of  some 
sagacity  to  foretell.  I  shall  state  a  few  circumstances 
which  may  illustrate  the  progress  and  tendency  of  opi- 
nion among  the  people  of  New  York. 

In  that  city  a  separation  is  rapidly  taking  place  be- 
tween the  different  orders  of  society.  The  operative 
class  have  already  formed  themselves  into  a  society,  un- 
der the  name  of  "  T*he  WorkiesJ1  in  direct  opposition 
to  those  who,  more  favoured  by.  nature  or  fortune,  en- 
joy the  luxuries  of  life  without  the  necessity  of  manual 
labour.  These  people  make  no  secret  of  their  demands, 
which  to  da  them  justice  are  few  and  emphatic.  They 
are  published  in  the  newspapers,  and  may  be  read  an 
half  the  walls  of  New  York.  Their  first  postulate  is 
"  EQUAL  AND  UNIVERSAL  EDUCATION."  It  is  false,  they 
say,  to  maintain  that  there  is  at  present  no  privileged  or- 
der, no  practical  aristocracy,  in  a  country  where  distinc- 
tions of  education  are  perm  itted.  That  portion  of  the  po- 
pulation whom  the  necessity  of  manual  labour  cuts  off 
from  the  opportunity  of  enlarged  acquirement,  is  in  fact 
excluded  from  all  the  valuable  offices  of  the  State.  As 
matters  are  now  ordered  in  the  United  States,  these  are 
distributed  exclusively  among  one  small  class  of  the 
community,  while  those  who  constitute  the  real  strength 
of  the  country,  have  barely  a  voice  in  the  distribution  of 
those  loaves  and  fishes,  which  they  are  not  permitted  to 
enjoy.  There  does  exist  then — they  argue — an  aristo- 
cracy of  the  most  odious  kind, — an  aristocracy  of  know- 
ledge, education,  and  refinement,  which  is  inconsistent 
with  the  true  democratic  principle  of  absolute  equality. 

21 


162  SOCIETY  OF  WORRIES. 

They  pledge  themselves,  therefore,  to  exert  every  ef- 
fort, mental  and  physical,  for  the  abolition  of  this  fla- 
grant injustice.  They  proclaim  it  to  the  world  as  a  nui- 
sance which  must  be  abated,  before  the  freedom  of  an 
American  be  something  more  than  a  mere  empty  boast. 
They  solemnly  declare  that  they  will  not  rest  satisfied, 
till  every  citizen  in  the  United  States  shall  receive  the 
same  degree  of  education,  and  start  fair  in  the  competi- 
tion for  the  honours  and  the  offices  of  the  state.  As  it 
is  of  course  impossible- — and  these  men  know  it  to  be  so 
— to  educate  the  labouring  class  to  the  standard  of  the 
richer,  it  is  their  professed  object  to  reduce  the  latter  to 
the  same  mental  condition  with  the  former;  to  prohibit 
all  supererogatory  knowledge;  to  have  a  maximum  of 
acquirement  beyond  which  it  shall  be  punishable  to  go, 

But  those  who  limit  their  views  to  the  mental  degra- 
dation of  their  country,  are  in  fact  the  MODERATES  of  the 
party.  There  are  others  who  go  still  farther,  and  bold- 
ly advocate  the  introduction  of  an  AGRARIAN  LAW,  and  a 
periodical  division  of  property.  These  unquestionably 
constitute  the  extreme  gauche  of  the  Worky  Parliament, 
but  still  they  only  follow  out  the  principles  of  their  less 
violent  neighbours,  and  eloquently  dilate  on  the  justice 
and  propriety  of  every  individual  being  equally  supplied 
with  food  and  clothing;  on  the  monstrous  iniquity  of  one 
man  riding  in  his  carriage  while  another  walks  on  foot, 
and,  after  his  drive,  discussing  a  bottle  of  Champagne, 
while  many  of  his  neighbours  are  shamefully  compelled 
to  be  content  with  the  pure  element.  Only  equalize 
property,  they  say,  and  neither  would  drink  Champagne 
or  water,  but  both  would  have  brandy,  a  consummation 
worthy  of  centurtes  of  struggle  to  attain. 

All  this  is  nonsense  undoubtedly,  nor  do  I  say  that 
this  party,  though  strong  in  New  York,  is  yet  so  nume- 
rous or  so  widely  diffused  as  to  create  immediate  alarm. 
In  the  elections,  however,  for  the  civic  offices  of  the 
city,  their  influence  is  strongly  felt;  and  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  as  population  becomes  more  dense,  and  the 
supply  of  labour  shall  equal,  or  exceed  the  demand  for 
it,  the  strength  of  this  party  must  be  enormously  aug- 
mented. Their  ranks  will  always  be  recruited  by  the 
needy,  the  idle,  and  the  profligate,  and  like  a  rolling  snow- 


POLITICAL  PROSPECTS  OF  THE  UNION.  1^3 

ball,  it  will  gather  strength  and  volume  as  it  proceeds, 
until  at  length  it  comes  down  thundering  with  the  force 
and  desolation  of  an  avalanche. 

This  event  may  be  distant,  but  it  is  not  the  less  certain 
on  that  account.  It  is  nothing  to  say,  that  the  immense 
extent  of  fertile  territory  yet  to  be  occupied  by  an  un- 
born population  will  delay  the  day  of  ruin.  It  will  de- 
lay, but  it  cannot  prevent  it.  The  traveller,  at  the 
source  of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Ame- 
rican Continent,  may  predict  with  perfect  certainty,  that 
however  protracted  the  wanderings  of  the  rivulet  at  his 
foot,  it  must  reach  the  ocean  at  last.  In  proportion  as 
the  nearer  lands  are  occupied,  it  is  very  evident  that 
the  region  to  which  emigration  will  be  directed  must  of 
necessity  be  more  distant.  The  pressure  of  population 
therefore  will  continue  to  augment  in  the  Atlantic  States, 
and  the  motives  to  removal  become  gradually  weaker. 
Indeed,  at  the  present  rate  of  extension,  the  circle  of 
occupied  territory  must  before  many  generations  be  so 
enormously  enlarged,  that  emigration  will  be  confined 
wholly  to  the  Western  States.  Then,  and  not  till  then, 
will  come  the  trial  of  the  American  constitution;  and 
until  that  trial  has  been  passed,  it  is  mere  nonsense  to 
appeal  to  its  stability. 

Nor  is  this  period  of  trial  apparently  very  distant. 
At  the  present  ratio  of  increase,  the  population  of  the 
United  States  doubles  itself  in  about  twenty-four  years, 
so  that  in  half  a  century  it  will  amount  to  about  fifty 
millions,  of  which  ten  millions  will  be  slaves,  or  at  all 
events  a  degraded  caste,  cut  off  from  all  the  rights  and 
privileges  of  citizenship.  Before  this  period  it  is  very 
certain  that  the  pressure  of  the  population,  on  the  means 
of  subsistence,  especially  in  the  Atlantic  States,  will  be 
very  great.  The  price  of  labour  will  have  fallen,  while 
that  of  the  necessaries  of  life  must  be  prodigiously  en- 
hanced. The  poorer  and  more  suffering  class,  will  want 
the  means  of  emigrating  to  a  distant  region  of  unoccupied 
territory.  Poverty  and  misery  will  be  abroad;  the  great 
majority  of  the  people  will  be  without  property  of  any 
kind,  except  the  thews  and  sinews  with  which  God  has 
endowed  them;  they  will  choose  legislators  under  the 
immediate  pressure  of  privation;  and  if  in  such  circum- 


164  APPROACHING  TRIAL 

stances,  any  man  can  anticipate  security  of  property,  his 
conclusion  must  be  founded,  I  suspect,  rather  on  the 
wishes  of  a  sanguine  temperament,  than  on  any  rational 
calculation  of  probabilities. 

Jt  is  the  present  policy  of  the  government  to  encou- 
rage and  stimulate  the  premature  growth  of  a  manufac- 
turing population.  In  this  it  will  not  be  successful,  but  no 
man  can  contemplate  the  vast  internal  resources  of  the 
United  States, — the  varied  productions  of  their  soil, — 
the  unparalleled  extent  of  river  communication — the 
inexhaustible  stores  of  coal  and  iron  which  are  spread 
even  on  the  surface,— and  doubt  that  the  Americans 
are  destined  to  become  a  great  manufacturing  nation. 
Whenever  increase  of  population  shall  have  reduced  the 
price  of  labour  to  a  par  with  that  in  other  countries, 
these  advantages  will  come  into  full  play;  the  United 
States  will  then  meet  England  on  fair  terms  in  every 
market  of  the  world,  and  in  many  branches  of  industry 
at  least,  will  very  probably  attain  an  unquestioned  su- 
periority. Huge  manufacturing  cities  will  spring  up  in 
various  quarters  of  the  Union,the  population  will  congre- 
gate in  masses,  and  all  the  vices  incident  to  such  a  con- 
dition of  society  will  attain  speedy  maturity.  Millions 
of  men  will  depend  for  subsistence  on  the  demand  for  a 
particular  manufacture,  and  yet  this  demand  will  of  ne- 
cessity be  liable  to  perpetual  fluctuation.  When  the 
pendulum  vibrates  in  one  direction,  there  will  be  an  in- 
flux of  wealth  and  prosperity ;  when  it  vibrates  in  the 
other,  misery,  discontent,  and  turbulence  will  spread 
through  the  land.  A  change  of  fashion,  a  war,  the  glut 
of  a  foreign  market,  a  thousand  unforeseen  and  inevita- 
ble accidents  are  liable  to  produce  this,  and  deprive  mul- 
titudes of  bread,  who  but  a  month  before  were  enjoying 
all  the  comforts  of  life.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  in 
this  suffering  class  will  be  practically  deposited  the  whole 
political  power  of  the  state;  that  there  can  be  no  military 
force  to  maintain  civil  order,  and  protect  property;  and 
lo  what  quarter,  I  should  be  glad  to  know,  is  the  rich 
man  to  look  for  security,  either  of  person  or  fortune? 

There  will  be  no  occasion,  however,  for  convulsion  or 
violence.  The  Worky  convention  will  only  have  to 
choose  representatives  of  their  own  principles,  in  order 


OF  THE  CONSTITUTION.  165 

to  accomplish  a  general  system  of  spoliation,  in  the  most 
legal  and  constitutional  manner.  It  is  not  even  neces- 
sary that  a  majority  of  the  federal  legislature  should  con- 
cur in  this.  It  is  competent  to  the  government  of  each 
state  to  dispose  of  the  property  within  their  own  limits 
as  they  think  proper,  and  whenever  a  numerical  majo- 
rity of  the  people  shall  be  in  favour  of  an  Agrarian  law, 
there  exists  no  counteracting  influence  to  prevent,  or 
even  to  retard  its  adoption. 

I  have  had  the  advantage  of  conversing  with  many  of 
the  most  eminent  Americans  of  the  Union,  on  the  future 
prospects  of  their  country,  and  I  certainly  remember 
none  who  did  not  admit  that  a  period  of  trial,  such  as 
that  I  have  ventured  to  describe,  is,  according  to  all  hu- 
man calculation,  inevitable.  Many  of  them  reckoned 
much  on  education  as  a  means  of  safety,  and,  unques- 
tionably, in  a  country  where  the  mere  power  of  breathing 
carries  with  it  the  right  of  suffrage,  the  diffusion  of  sound 
knowledge  is  always  essential  to  the  public  security.  It 
unfortunately  happens,  however,  that  in  proportion  as 
poverty  increases,  not  only  the  means  but  the  desire 
of  instruction  are  necessarily  diminished.  The  man 
whose  whole  energies  are  required  for  the  supply  of  his 
bodily  wants,  has  neither  time  nor  inclination  to  concern 
himself  about  his  mental  deficiencies,  and  the  result  of 
human  experience  does  not  warrant  us  in  reckoning  on 
the  restraint  of  individual  cupidity,  where  no  obsta- 
cle exists  to  its  gratification,  by  any  deliberate  calcula- 
tion of  its  consequences  on  society.  There  can  be  no 
doubt,  that  if  men  could  be  made  wise  enough  to  act  on 
an  enlarged  and  enlightened  view  of  their  own  interest, 
government  might  be  dispensed  with  altogether;  but 
what  statesman  would  legislate  on  the  probability  of  such 
a  condition  of  society,  or  rely  on  it  as  a  means  of  future 
safety. 

The  general  answer,  however,  is,  that  the  state  of 
things  which  I  have  ventured  to  describe,  is  very  dis- 
tant. "  It  is  enough,"  they  say,  "  for  each  generation  to 
look  to  itself,  and  we  leave  it  to  our  descendants  some 
centuries  hence  to  take  care  of  their  interests  as  we  do 
of  ours.  We  enjoy  all  manner  of  freedom  and  security 


166  DIFFICULTY  OF  UNDERSTANDING 

under  our  present  constitution,  and  really  feel  very  little 
concern  about  the  evils  which-  may  afflict  our  posterity." 
I  cannot  help  believing,  however,  that  the  period  of  trial 
is  somewhat  less  distant  than  such  reasoners  comfort 
themselves  by  imagining;  but  if  the  question  be  conceded 
that  democracy  necessarily  leads  to  anarchy  and  spolia- 
tion, it  does  not  seem  that  the  mere  length  of  road  to  be 
travelled  is  a  point  of  much  importance.  This,  of  course, 
would  vary  according  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  of 
every  country  in  which  the  experiment  might  be  tried. 
In  England,  the  journey  would  be  performed  with  rail- 
way velocity.  In  the  United  States,  with  the  great  ad- 
vantages they  possess,  it  may  continue  a  generation  or 
two  longer,  but  the  termination  is  the  same.  The  doubt 
regards  time,  not  destination. 

At  present,  the  United  States  are,  perhaps,  more  safe 
from  revolutionary  contention  than  any  other  country  in 
the  world.  But  this  safety  consists  in  one  circumstance 
alone.  The.  great  majority  of  the.  people,  are  possessed 
of  property;  have  what  is  called  a  stake  in  the  hedge; 
and  are,  therefore,  by  interest,  opposed  to  all  measures 
which  may  tend  to  its  insecurity.  It  is  for  such  a  con- 
dition of  society  that  the  present  constitution  was  framed; 
and  could  this  great  bulwark  of  prudent  government,  be 
rendered  as  permanent  as  it  is  effective,  there  could  be  no 
assignable  limit  to  the  prosperity  of  a  people  so  favoured. 
But  the  truth  is  undeniable,  that  as  population  increases, 
another  state  of  things  must  necessarily  arise,  and  one, 
unfortunately,  never  dreamt  of  in  the  philosophy  of 
American  legislators.  The  majority  of  the  people  will 
then  consist  of  men  without  property  of  any  kind,  sub- 
ject to  the  immediate  pressure  of  want,  and  then  will  be 
decided  the  great  struggle  between  property  and  num- 
bers; on  the  one  side  hunger,  rapacity,  and  physical  pow- 
er: reason,  justice,  and  helplessness  on  the  other.  The 
weapons  of  this  fearful  contest  are  already  forged;  the 
hands  will  soon  be  born  that  are  to  wield  them.  At  all 
events,  let  no  man  appeal  to  the  stability  of  the  Ameri- 
can government  as  being  established  by  experience,  till 
this  trial  has  been  overpast.  Forty  years  are  no  time  to 
test  the  permanence,  or,  if  I  may  so  speak,  the  vitality 
of  a  constitution,  the  immediate  advantages  of  which 


THE  FEDERAL  CONSTITUTION.        157 

are  strongly  felt,  and  the  evils  latent  and  comparatively 
remote. 

It  may  be  well  to  explain,  that  what  I  have  hitherto 
said  has  rather  been  directed  to  the  pervading  democracy 
of  the  institutions  of  the  different  States  than  to  the  fe- 
deral government.  Of  the  latter,  it  is  difficult  to  speak, 
because  it  is  difficult  to  ascertain  with  any  precision,  the 
principles  on  which  it  is  founded.  1  think  it  was  a  say- 
ing of  Lord  Eldon,  that  there  was  no  act  of  Parliament 
so  carefully  worded  that  he  could  not  drive  a  coach  and 
six  through  it.  The  American  lawyers  have  been  at 
least  equally  successful  with  regard  to  their  federal  con- 
stitution. No  man  appears  precisely  to  understand  what 
it  is,  but  all  agree  that  it  is  something  very  wise.  It  is 
a  sort  of  political  gospel,  in  which  every  man  finds  a  re- 
flection of  his  own  prejudices  and  opinions.  Ask  a  New 
England  statesman  what  is  the  constitution,  and  he  will 
tell  you  something  very  different  from  a  Georgian  or 
South  Carolinian.  Even  the  halls  of  Congress  yet 
echo  with  loud  and  bitter  disputation  as  to  the  primary 
and  fundamental  principle  on  which  it  is  based.  Ask 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  what  is  the  nature 
of  the  government  he  administers  with  so  much  ho- 
nour to  himself  and  advantage  to  his  country,  and  Ge- 
neral Jackson  will  tell  you  that  it  is  a  government  of 
consolidation,  possessing  full  power  to  enforce  its  de- 
crees in  every  district  of  the  Union.  Ask  the  Vice-pre- 
sident, and  he  will  assure  you  that  the  government  is 
merely  confederative,  and  depends  for  its  authority  on 
the  free  consent  of  the  individual  States.  Ask  Mr.  Clay 
or  Mr.  Webster  what  are  the  powers  of  this  apparently  un- 
intelligible constitution,  and  they  will  probably  include 
in  their  number  the  privilege  of  taxing  at  discretion  the 
commerce  of  the  country,  and  expending  the  money  so 
raised  in  projects  of  internal  improvement.  Put  the 
same  question  to  General  Hayne  or  Mr.  Van  Buren,  and 
they  will  assert  that  such  doctrine  is  of  the  most  inju- 
rious tendency,  and  proceeds  altogether  on  a  false  inter- 
pretation; and  yet  all  will  agree  that  the  federal  constitu- 
tion is  the  highest,  most  perspicuous,  and  faultless 
achievement  of  human  legislation!  It  may  be  so,  but  till 
this  masterpiece  of  polity  becomes  something  more  de- 


168  DISADVANTAGES  OF  THE  UNION. 

finite  and  intelligible,  a  foreigner  may,  perhaps,  be  ex- 
cused for  holding  his  admiration  in  abeyance. 

At  all  events,  it  is  abundantly  clear,  that  the  seeds  of 
discord  are  plentifully  scattered  throughout  the  Union. 
Men  of  different  habits,  different  interests,  different 
modes  of  thought;  the  inhabitants  of  different  climates, 
and  agreeing  only  in  mutual  antipathy,  are  united  under 
a  common  government,  whose  powers  are  so  indefinite 
as  to  afford  matter  for  interminable  and  rancorous  dispu- 
tation. Does  such  a  government  bear  the  impress  of 
permanence?  Or  does  it  not  rather  seem,  in  its  very 
structure,  to  concentrate  all  the  scattered  elements  of 
decay? 

When  we  contemplate  the  political  relations  of  this 
singular  people,  the  question  naturally  arises  whether 
unity  of  government  be  compatible  with  great  diversi- 
ties of  interest  in  the  governed.  There  may  possibly  be 
reasoners  who  are  prepared  to  answer  this  question  in 
the  affirmative,  and  to  these  we  may  look  for  instruction 
as  to  the  advantages  such  a  government  as  that  of  the 
United  States  possesses  over  others  of  smaller  extent, 
and,  therefore,  capable  of  closer  adaptation  to  the  pecu- 
liar wants  and  interests  of  a  people.  To  me  it  certainly 
appears  that  there  can  be  no  firm  adhesion  without  ho- 
mogenity  in  a  population.  Let  men  once  feel  that  their 
interests  are  the  same;  that  they  are  exposed  to  the  same 
dangers;  solicitous  for  the  same  objects,  partaking  of  the 
same  advantages,  and  connected  by  some  reasonable  de- 
gree of  geographical  propinquity,  and  in  such  a  commu- 
nity there  is  no  fear  of  separation  or  dismemberment 
The  population,  in  such  circumstances,  forms  one  uni- 
form' and  firmly-concatenated  whole,  whereas,  a  Union 
on  other  principles,  resembles  that  of  a  bag  of  sand,  in 
which  the  separate  particles,  though  held  together  for  a 
time,  retain  their  original  and  abstract,  individuality. 

Let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  this  Union.  In  Florida 
and  Louisiana  they  grow  sugar;  in  Maine  there  is  scarce- 
ly sun  enough  to  ripen  a  crop  of  maize.  The  people  of 
these  States  are  no  less  different  than  the  productions  of 
their  soil.  They  are  animated  by  no  sentiment  of  bro- 
therhood and  affinity.  Nature  has  divided  them  by  a 
distance  of  two  thousand  miles;  the  interests  of  one  are 


PROSPECTS  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION.  169 

neither  understood  nor  cared  for  in  the  other.  In  short, 
they  are  connected  by  nothing  but  a  clumsy  and  awk- 
ward piece  of  machinery,  most  felicitously  contrived  to 
deprive  both  of  the  blessing  of  self-government.  What 
is  gained  by  this?  A  certain  degree  of  strength,  undoubt- 
edly, but  not  more  than  might  be  produced  by  an  alli- 
ance between  independent  States,  unaccompanied  by  that 
jealousy  and  conflict  of  opposing  interests,  which  is  the 
present  curse  of  the  whole  Union. 

I  remember,  when  at  Washington,  stating  my  im- 
pressions on  this  subject  to  a  distinguished  member  of  the 
House  of  Representatives,  who  admitted  that  the  ends  of 
good  government  would  most  probably  be  better,  and 
more  easily  attainable,  were  the  Union  divided  into  se- 
veral republics,  firmly  united  for  purposes  of  defence,  but 
enjoying  complete  legislative  independence.  "  And  yet," 
he  continued,  "  the  scheme  could  not  possibly  succeed. 
The  truth  is,  the  Union  is  necessary  to  prevent  us  from 
cutting  each  other's  throats."  Nor  is  this  to  be  considered 
as  the  singular  opinion  of  some  eccentric  individual.  I 
have  often  conversed  on  the  subject  with  men  of  great 
intelligence  in  different  parts  of  the  Union,  and  found  a 
perfect  harmony  of  opinion  as  to  the  results  of  separa- 
tion. The  northern  gentlemen,  in  particular,  seemed  to 
regard  the  federal  government  as  the  ark  of  their  safety 
from  civil  war  and  bloodshed.  In  such  circumstances,  it 
might  charitably  be  wished,  that  their  ark  was  a  stronger 
sea-boat;  and  better  calculated  to  weather  the  storms  to 
which  it  is  likely  to  be  exposed. 

In  truth,  every  year  must  increase  the  perils  of  this 
federal  constitution.  Like  other  bubbles,  it  is  at  any  time 
liable  to  burst,  and  the  world  will  then  discover  that  its 
external  glitter  covered  nothing  but  wind.  It  may  split 
to-morrow  on  the  Tariff  question,  or  it  may  go  on,  till, 
like  a  dropsical  patient,  it  dies  of  mere  extension,  when 
its  remains  will  probably  be  denied  even  the  decent  ho- 
nours of  a  Christian  burial.  It  was  near  giving  up  the 
ghost  at  the  time  of  the  Hartford  Convention,  and  is  now 
in  a  state  of  grievous  suffering  from  the  Carolina  fever. 
It  will  probably  survive  this  attack  as  it  did  the  former, 
since  the  great  majority  of  the  States  are  at  present  in 
favour  of  its  continuance.  But,  with  the  prevalence  of 


170  DANGERS  WHICH  MENACE 

the  doctrine  of  nullification,  it  is  impossible  it  can  ever 
gain  much  strength  or  vigour.  If  each  State  is  to  have 
the  privilege  of  sitting  in  judgment  on  the  legality  of  its 
measures,  the  range  of  its  legislation  must  necessarily  be 
very  confined.  It  will  puzzle  the  ingenuity  of  American 
statesmen,  to  discover  some  policy  which  will  prove  pala- 
table to  the  various  members  of  the  Union,  and  which  all 
interpreters  of  the  Constitution  will  confess  to  be  within 
the  narrow  limits  of  its  power. 

Let  us  suppose  in  England  that  every  county  asserted 
the  privilege  of  nullifying,  when  it  thought  proper,  the 
acts  of  the  British  Parliament.  Leicestershire  would 
summon  her  population  in  convention  to  resist  any  reduc- 
tion of  the  foreign  wool-duty.  Kent  and  Surrey  would 
nullify  the  hop-duty.  Lay  a  rude  finger  on  kelp,  and  a 
distant  threat  of  separation  would  be  heard  from  the  Ork- 
neys. Dorset  and  Wilts  would  insist  on  the  continuance 
of  the  corn-laws,  and  wo  to  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exche- 
quer who  should  venture  to  raise  the  Highland  war-slogan 
by  an  impost  on  horned  cattle!  Yet,  in  Great  Britain 
there  exist  no  provincial  jealousies,  and  the  interests  of 
the  whole  kingdom  are  far  more  intimately  amalgamated 
than  can  ever  be  the  case  in  the  United  States. 

Amid  the  multitude  of  events  which  threaten  the  disso- 
lution of  the  Union,  I  may  venture  to  specify  one.  The 
influence  of  each  State  in  the  election  of  the  President,  is 
in  the  exact  ratio  of  the  amount  of  its  population.  In  this 
respect,  the  increase  in  some  States  is  far  greater  than  in 
others.  The  unrivalled  advantages  of  New  York  have 
already  given  it  the  lead,  and  the  same  causes  must  ne- 
cessarily still  continue  to  augment  its  comparative  supe- 
riority. Ohio — a  state  also  rich  in  natural  advantages — 
has  recently  been  advancing  with  astonishing  rapidity, 
and  the  time  is  apparently  not  far  distant  when  three 
States  (New  York,  Pennsylvania,  and  Ohio)  must  possess 
a  numerical  majority  of  the  whole  population,  and  of 
course  the  power  of  electing  the  President,  independently 
of  the  other  twenty-one  States.  Will  the  States  thus  vir- 
tually excluded,  tamely  submit  to  this,  or  will  they  appeal 
to  Congress  for  an  amendment  of  the  constitution  ?  There 
can  be  no  prospect  of  redress  from  this  quarter.  The  same 
superiority  of  population  which  gave  those  three  States 


THE  DISRUPTION  OF  THE  UNION.  37 1 

the  power  of  electing  the  President,  has  of  course  also  gi- 
ven them  the  majority  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 
and  no  amendment  of  the  constitution  can  take  place 
without  the  concurrence  of  two- thirds  of  both  houses.  Be- 
sides, the  principle  of  election  hy  numerical  majority  is 
fundamental  throughout  the  Union,  and  could  not  be  ab- 
rogated without  a  total  violation  of  consistency.  It  does 
appear,  therefore,  that  in  no  great  distance  of  time  the 
whole  substantial  influence  of  the  federal  government 
may  he  wielded  by  three  States,  and  that  whenever  these 
choose  to  combine,  it  will  be  in  their  power  to  carry  any 
measure,  however  obnoxious,  to  the  rest  of  the  Union. 
The  Senate,  it  is  true,  which  consists  of  delegates  in  equal 
number  from  each  State,  would  be  free  from  this  influence, 
but  in  any  struggle  with  the  more  popular  house,  it  must, 
of  course,  prove  the  weaker  party,  and  be  compelled  to 
yield. 

Those  know  little  of  the  character  of  the  American 
people,  who  imagine  that  the  great  majority  of  the  States 
would  tolerate  being  reduced  to  the  condition  of  political 
ciphers.  Their  jealousy  of  each  other  is  very  great,  and 
there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  should  the  contingency  here 
contemplated  occur,  it  must  occasion  a  total  disruption  of 
the  bonds  of  union.  I  believe  it  is  the  probability  of 
such  an  event,  joined  to  the  apprehension  of  some  inter- 
ference with  the  condition  of  the  slave  population,  which 
makes  the  people  of  the  Southern  States  so  anxious  to 
narrow  the  power  of  the  general  government.  At  all 
events,  it  will  be  singular  indeed  if  the  seeds  of  civil  broil, 
disseminated  in  a  soil  so  admirably  fitted  to  bring  them  to 
maturity,  should  not  eventually  yield  an  abundant  har- 
vest of  animosity  and  dissension.  * 

After  much — I  hope  impartial  and  certainly  patient— 

*  The  opinions  I  have  ventured  to  express  on  this  subject  are  by  no 
means  singular.  They  are  those  of  a  large  portion  of  the  American 
people.  Chancellor  Kent — the  ablest  constitutional  lawyer  of  his  coun- 
try— says,  in  his  Commentaries,  "  If  ever  the  tranquillity  of  this  nation 
is  to  be  disturbed,  and  its  peace  jeopardized  by  a  struggle  for  power 
among  themselves,  it  will  be  upon  this  very  subject  of  the  choice  of  a  f  re- 
sident. It  is  the  question  that  is  eventually  to  attest  the  goodness  and  try 
the  strength  of  the  constitution."  And  many  other  authorities  might  be 
adduced,  were  the  subject  one  on  which  mere  authority  could  have 
much  weight. 


172  DANGER  OF  UNIVERSAL  SUFFRAGE. 

'   •  nS*-' 

observation,  it  does  appear  to  me,  that  universal  suffrage 
is  the  rock  on  which  American  freedom  is  most  likely  to 
suffer  shipwreck.  The  intrinsic  evils  of  the  system  are 
very  great,  and  its  adoption  in  the  United  States  was  the 
more  monstrous,  because  a  qualification  in  property  is 
there  not  only  a  test  of  intelligence,  but  of  moral  charac- 
ter. The  man  must  either  be  idle  or  profligate,  or  more 
probably  both,  who  does  not,  in  a  country  where  labour 
is  so  highly  rewarded,  obtain  a  qualification  of  some  sort. 
He  is  evidently  unworthy  of  the  right  of  suffrage,  and  by 
every  wise  legislature  will  be  debarred  from  its  exercise. 
In  densely  peopled  countries  the  test  of  property  in  refe- 
rence to  moral  qualities  is  fallible, — perhaps  too  fallible 
to  be  relied  on  with  much  confidence.  In  the  United 
States  it  is  uneiring,  or  at  least  the  possible  exceptions 
are  so  few,  and  must  arise  from  circumstances  so  peculiar, 
that  it  is  altogether  unnecessary  they  should  find  any 
place  in  the  calculations  of  a  statesman.  But  American 
legislators  have  thought  proper  to  cast  away  this  inesti- 
mable advantage.  Seeing  no  immediate  danger  in  the 
utmost  extent  of  suffrage,  they  were  content  to  remain 
blind  to  the  future.  They  took  every  precaution  that 
the  rights  of  the  poor  man  should  not  be  encroached  on 
by  the  rich,  but  never  seem  to  have  contemplated  the 
possibility  that  the  rights  of  the  latter  might  be  violated 
by  the  former.  American  protection,  like  Irish  recipro- 
city, was  all  on  one  side.  It  was  withheld  where  most 
needed ;  it  was  profusely  lavished  where  there  was  no 
risk  of  danger.  They  put  a  sword  in  the  hand  of  one 
combatant,  and  took  the  shield  from  the  arm  of  the 
other. 

The  leader  who  gave  the  first  and  most  powerful  im- 
pulse to  the  democratic  tendencies  of  the  constitution  was 
unquestionably  Jefferson.  His  countrymen  call  him  great, 
but  in  truth  he  was  great  only  when  compared  with  those 
by  whom  he  was  surrounded.  In  brilliance  and  activity 
of  intellect  he  was  inferior  to  Hamilton;  but  Hamilton  in 
heart  and  mind  was  an  aristocrat,  and  too  honourable 
and  too  proud  to  shape  his  political  course  to  catch  the 
flitting  gales  of  popular  favour.  Death,  fortunately  for 
Jefferson,  removed  the  only  rival,  by  whom  his  reputa- 
tion could  have  been  eclipsed,  or  his  political  principles 


CHARACTER  OF  JEFFERSON.  173 

successfully  opposed.  Adams  he  encountered  and  over- 
threw. Federalism,  never  calculated  to  secure  popular 
favour,  dwindled  on,  till  in  the  termination  of  the  late 
war  it  received  its  death-blow,  and  the  democratic  party 
remained  undisputed  lords  of  the  ascendant. 

We  seek  in  vain  in  the  writings  of  Jefferson  for  indica- 
tions of  original  or  profound  thought.  When  in  France, 
he  had  been  captivated  by  that  shallow  philosophy  of 
which  Diderot  and  Condorcet  were  the  apostles,  and  he 
returned  to  America,  the  zealous  partisan  of  opinions, 
which  no  subsequent  experience  could  induce  him  to  re- 
linquish or  modify.  During  by  far  the  greater  portion  of 
his  life,  the  intellect  of  Jefferson  remained  stationary. 
Time  passed  on ;  generations  were  gathered  to  their  fa- 
thers ;  the  dawn  of  liberty  on  the  continent  of  Europe  had 
terminated  in  a  bloody  sunset ;  but  the  shadow  on  the  dial 
of  his  mind  remained  unmoved.  In  his  correspondence 
we  find  him  to  the  very  last,  complacently  putting 
forth  the  stale  and  flimsy  dogmas,  which,  when  backed 
by  the  guillotine,  had  passed  for  unanswerable  in  the  Ja- 
cobin coteries  of  the  Revolution. 

The  mind  of  Jefferson  was  essentially  unpoetical.  In 
his  whole  works  there  is  no  trace  discoverable  of  imagi- 
native power.  His  benevolence  was  rather  topical  than 
expansive.  It  reached  France,  but  never  ventured  across 
the  channel.  Had  Napoleon  invaded  England,  the  heart 
and  prayers  of  Jefferson  would  have  followed  him  in  the 
enterprise.  He  would  have  gloated  over  her  fallen  pa- 
laces, her  conflagrated  cities,  her  desolate  fields.  Her 
blood,  her  sufferings,  her  tears,  the  glorious  memory  of 
her  past  achievements,  would  in  him  have  excited  no 
feeling  of  compassionate  regret.  Jefferson  had  little  en- 
thusiasm of  character.  Nor  was  he  rich  in  those  warm 
charities  and  affections,  in  which  great  minds  are  rarely 
deficient.  He  has  been  truly  called  a  good  hater.  His 
resentments  were  not  vehement  and  fiery  ebullitions, 
burning  fiercely  for  a  time,  and  then  subsiding  into  in- 
difference or  dislike.  They  were  cool,  fiend-like,  and 
ferocious;  unsparing,  undying,  unappeasable.  The  en- 
mities of  most  men  terminate  with  the  death  of  their  ob- 
ject. It  was  the  delight  of  Jefferson  to  trample  even  on 
the  graves  of  his  political  opponents.  The  manner  in 


174  MADISON— MONROE. 

which  he  speaks  of  Hamilton  in  his  correspondence,  and 
the  charges  by  which  he  vainly  attempts  to  blast  his  re- 
putation, will  attach  an  indelible  tarnish  to  his  own  me- 
mory. He  never  forgave  the  superior  confidence  which 
Washington  reposed  in  the  wisdom  and  integrity  of  Ha- 
milton. The  only  amiable  feature  in  the  whole  life  of 
Jefferson  was  his  reconciliation  with  Adams,  and  there 
the  efficient  link  was  community  of  hatred.  Both  de- 
tested Hamilton. 

The  moral  character  of  Jefferson  was  repulsive.  Con- 
tinually puling  about  liberty,  equality,  and  the  degrading 
curse  of  slavery,  he  brought  his  own  children  to  the  ham- 
mer, and  made  money  of  his  debaucheries.  Even  at  his 
death,  he  did  not  manumit  his  numerous  offspring,  but 
left  them,  soul  and  body,  to  degradation,  and  the  cart- 
whip.  A  daughter  of  Jefferson  was  sold  some  years  ago, 
by  public  auction,  at  New  Orleans,  and  purchased  by  a 
society  of  gentlemen,  who  wished  to  testify,  by  her  libe- 
ration, their  admiration  of  the  statesman, 

"  Who  dreamt  of  freedom  in  a  slave's  embrace." 

This  single  line  gives  more  insight  to  the  character  of  the 
man,  than  whole  volumes  of  panegyric.  It  will  outlive 
his  epitaph,  write  it  who  may. 

Jefferson  was  succeeded  by  Madison,  a  mere  reflex  of 
his  political  opinions.  If  he  wanted  the  harsher  points 
of  Jefferson's  character,  he  wanted  also  its  vigour.  The 
system  he  pursued  was  indistinguishable  from  that  of  his 
predecessor,  and  during  his  Presidency  the  current  of  de- 
mocracy flowed  on  with  increased  violence  and  velocity. 
Monroe  came  next,  and  becoming  at  length  aware  of  the 
prevailing  tendencies  of  the  constitution,  was  anxious  to 
steer  a  middle  course.  He  organized  a  piebald  cabinet, 
composed  of  men  of  different  opinions,  and  the  result  of 
their  conjunction  was  a  sort  of  hybrid  policy,  half  fede- 
ralist and  half  democratic,  which  gave  satisfaction  to  no 
party. 

At  the  termination  of  Mr.  Monroe's  second  period  of 
office,  Mr.  John  Quincy  Adams  became  his  successor,  by 
a  sort  of  electioneering  juggle  which  occasioned  a  uni- 
versal sentiment  of  disgust.  What  the  principles  of  this 


ADAMS— JACKSON.'  175 

statesman  were,  or  are,  seems  a  matter  not  very  intelli- 
gible to  his  own  countrymen,  and  of  course  is  still  less  so 
to  a  foreigner*  All  that  is  necessary  to  be  known  is,  that 
at  the  expiration  of  four  years,  Mr.  Quincy  Adams  Was 
turned  out,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the  whole  Union, 
and  that  though  he  still  continues  in  the  healthy  enjoy- 
ment of  all  corporeal  and  mental  functions,  there  is  as- 
suredly no  chance  that  he  will  ever  again  be  promoted 
to  any  office  of  political  trust  and  importance. 

General  Jackson,  the  present  President,  has  always 
been  an  eminent  member  of  the  democratic  party.  His 
accession  to  office,  however,  united  to  the  experience  of 
a  long  life,  is  understood  to  have  induced  a  change  in  some 
of  his  opinions,  and  a  modification  of  others.  His  policy 
is  as  moderate  as  the  circumstances  of  the  times  will  per- 
mit. On  the  Tariff  question  his  opinions  are  not  precise- 
ly known,  but  he  decidedly  opposes  the  application  of  the 
public  money,  under  direction  of  the  federal  government, 
to  projects  of  internal  improvement. 

General  Jackson  was  certainly  indebted  for  his  present 
elevation,  to  the  reputation  he  acquired  in  the  successful 
defence  of  New  Orleans.  In  truth,  I  believe  his  popu- 
larity is  rather  military  than  political,  since  even  those^- 
and  they  are  many — who  dislike  him,  as  a  politician,  ex- 
tol him  as  the  first  general  of  the  age,  whose  reputation 
beggars  the  fame  of  the  most  celebrated  modern  strate- 
gists. 

It  is  excusable  to  smile  at  this,  but  scarcely  fair  to  vi- 
sit it  with  the  severity  of  ridicule.  New  Orleans, — for 
want  of  a  better, — is  the  American  Waterloo;  and  while 
the  loss  to  England  occasioned  by  this  disaster  is  a  fixed 
quantity  neither  to  be  increased  nor  diminished,  why 
should  we  object  to  the  display  of  a  little  harmless  vani- 
ty, or  demand  that  our  successful  opponents  should  mea- 
sure the  extent  of  their  achievement  rather  by  our  stand- 
ard than  by  their  own? 

When  talking  of  American  statesmen,  I  may  as  well 
detail  a  few  circumstances  connected  with  one,  who  has 
certainly  played  a  very  conspicuous  part  in  the  politics 
of  his  country.  I  allude  to  the  celebrated  Colonel  Burr, 
formerly  Vice  President  of  the  United  States,  and  who, 
in  1800,  was  within  a  vote  of  becoming  President,  in 


176  COLONEL  BURR, 

opposition  to  Jefferson  and  Adams.  It  is  well  known, 
that  strong  political  differences  with  General  Hamilton, 
imbittered  by  a  good  deal  of  personal  dislike,  led  to  a 
duel,  in  which  Hamilton  lost  his  life.  To  this  misfor- 
tune is  attributable  the  entire  ruin  of  ColonelBurr's  pros- 
pects as  a  statesman.  Hamilton  was  admired  by  all  par- 
ties, and  the  voice  of  lamentation  was  heard  from  the 
whole  Union  on  the  premature  extinction  of  the  highest 
intellect  of  the  country.  There  arose  a  general  and 
powerful  feeling  of  indignation  against  the  author  of  this 
national  calamity;  but  Burr  was  not  a  man  to  shrink 
from  the  pelting  of  any  tempest,  however  vehement. 
He  braved  its  violence,  but  at  once  knew  that  his  popu- 
larity was  gone  for  ever. 

Subsequently,  he  was  concerned  in  some  conspiracy  to 
seize  on  part  of  Mexico,  of  which  he  was  to  become 
sovereign,  by  the  style  and  title — I  suppose — of  Aaron 
the  First,  King,  or  Emperor  of  the  Texas.  Colonel 
Burr  was  likewise  accused  of  treason  to  the  common- 
wealth, in  attempting  to  overthrow  the  constitution  by 
force  of  arms.  But  a  veil  of  mystery  hangs  around  this 
portion  of  American  history.  I  have  certainly  read  a 
great  deal  about  it,  and  left  off  nearly  as  wise  as  when  I 
began.  A  conspiracy  of  some  sort  did  undoubtedly  ex- 
ist. Preparations  were,  in  progress  to  collect  an  arma- 
ment on  the  Ohio,  and  there  was  some  rumour  of  its  de- 
scending the  Mississippi  and  seizing  on  New  Orleans. 
Some  of  Burr's  followers  were  tried,  but — unless  my 
memory  deceives  me — acquitted.  At  all  events,  mate- 
rials could  not  be  discovered  for  the  conviction  of  the 
Great  Catiline,  whose  projects,  whether  defensible  or 
not,  were  original,  and  indicative  of  the  fearless  charac- 
ter of  the  man. 

His  acquittal,  however,  by  two  juries,  was  not  suffi- 
cient to  establish  his  innocence  in  the  opinion  of  his 
countrymen.  He  was  assailed  by  hatred  and  execration; 
his  name  was  made  a  by-word  for  every  thing  that  was 
odious  in  morals,  and  unprincipled  in  politics.  It  was 
under  such  circumstances  that  Burr  became  an  exile  from 
his  country  for  several  years.  During  that  period,  he 
visited  England,  where  he  attracted  the  jealous  observa- 
tion of  the  ministry,  and  his  correspondence  with  France 


VISIT  TO  COLONEL  BURR.  177 

being  more  frequent  than  was  quite  agreeable,  and  of  a 
cast  somewhat  too  political,  he  received  a  polite  invita- 
tion to  quit  the  country  with  the  least  possible  delay. 
Colonel  Burr  now  lives  in  New  York,  secluded  from  so- 
ciety, where  his  great  talents  and  extensive  professional 
knowledge,  still  gain  him  some  employment  as  a  con- 
sulting lawyer. 

A  friend  of  mine  at  New  York  inquired  whether  I 
should  wish  an  interview  with  this  distinguished  person. 
I  immediately  answered  in  the  affirmative,  and  a  note 
was  addressed  to  Colonel  Burr,  requesting  permission  to 
introduce  me.  The  answer  contained  a  polite  assent, 
and  indicated  an  hour  when  his  avocations  would  permit 
his  having  sufficient  leisure  for  the  enjoyment  of  conver- 
sation. At  the  time  appointed,  my  friend  conveyed  me 
to  a  house  in  one  of  the  poorest  streets  of  the  city. 
The  Colonel  received  us  on  the  landing-place,  with  the 
manners  of  a  finished  courtier,  and  led  the  way  to  his 
little  library,  which — judging  from  the  appearance  of 
the  volumes — was  principally  furnished  with  works  con- 
nected with  the  law. 

In  person,  Colonel  Burr  is  diminutive,  and  I  was 
much  struck  with  the  resemblance  he  bears  to  the  late 
Mr.  Percival.  His  physiognomy  is  expressive  of  strong 
sagacity.  The  eye  keen,  penetrating,  and  deeply  set; 
the  forehead  broad  and  prominent;  the  mouth  small,  but 
disfigured  by  the  ungraceful  form  of  the  lips;  and,  the 
other  features,  though  certainly  not  coarse,  were  irrecon- 
cilable with  any  theory  of  beauty.  On  the  whole,  I 
have  rarely  seen  a  more  remarkable  countenance.  Its 
expression  was  highly  intellectual,  but  I  imagined  I 
could  detect  the  lines  of  strong  passion  mingled  with 
those  of  deep  thought.  The  manners  of  Colonel  Burr 
are  those  of  a  highly  bred  gentleman.  His  powers  of 
conversation  are  very  great,  and  the  opinions  he  ex- 
presses on  many  subjects  marked  by  much  shrewdness 
and  originality. 

When  in  England,  he  had  become  acquainted  with 
many  of  the  Whig  leaders,  and  I  found  him  perfectly 
versed  in  every  thing  connected  with  our  national  po- 
litics. 

It  would  be  an' unwarrantable  breach  of  the  confidence 
23 


178  VOYAGE  TO  BRUNSWICK. 

of  private  life,  were  I  to  publish  any  particulars  of  the 
very  remarkable  conversation  I  enjoyed  with  this  emi- 
nent person.  I  shall,  therefore,  merely  state,  that, 
having  encroached,  perhaps,  too  long,  both  on  the  time 
and  patience  of  Colonel  Burr,  I  bade  him  farewell,  with 
sincere  regret,  that  a  career  of  public  life,  which  had 
opened  so  brilliantly,  should  not  have  led  to  a  more  for- 
tunate termination. 


CHAPTER  X. 

PHILADELPHIA. 

ON  the  8th  of  January  I  again  bade  farewell  to  New 
York,  and  embarked  on  board  of  a  New  Brunswick 
steamer  on  my  way  to  Philadelphia.  Our  course  lay  up 
the  Raritan  river,  which  has  nothing  interesting  to  dis- 
play in  point  of  scenery,  and  the  morning  being  raw  and 
gusty,  the  voyage  was  not  particularly  agreeable.  It  oc- 
cupied about  four  hours,  and,  on  reaching  Brunswick, 
we  found  a  cavalcade  of  nine  stage-coaches,  drawn  up 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  passengers.  In  these,  we 
were  destined  to  cross  the  country  between  the  Raritan 
and  Delaware,  which  forms  part  of  the  State  of  New 
Jersey.  In  theory,  nothing  could  be  easier  than  this 
journey.  The  distance  was  only  twenty-seven  miles; 
and,  in  a  thoroughfare  so  much  travelled  as  that  between 
the  two  great  cities  of  the  Union,  it  was,  at  least,  not 
probable  that  travellers  would  be  subjected  to  much  in- 
convenience. 

But  theory  and  experience  were  at  variance  in  this 
case,  as  in  many  others.  We  changed  coaches  at  every 
stage,  and  twice  had  the  whole  baggage  of  the  party  to 
be  unpacked  and  reloaded.  The  road  was  detestable; 
the  jolting  even  worse  than  what  I  had  suffered  on  my 
journey  from  Providence  to  Boston.  For,  at  least,  half 
the  distance,  the  coach  was  axle-deep  in  mud,  and  once 
it  fairly  stuck  in  a  rut,  and  might  have  continued  stick- 


ARRIVAL  AT  PHILADELPHIA.  179 

ing  till  doomsday,  had  the  passengers  not  dismounted  to 
lighten  the  vehicle.  I  inquired  the  reason  of  the  dis- 
graceful neglect  of  this  important  line  of  communica- 
tion, and  was  answered,  that,  as  it  was  intended  at  some 
future  period  to  have  a  railway,  it  would  be  mere  folly 
to  go  to  any  expense  in  repairing  it.  Thtfc  are  this  in- 
telligent people  content  to  sacrifice  a  great  present  bene- 
fit, to  a  mere  speculative,  and,  probably,  remote  con- 
tingency. 

The  scenery  through  which  our  route  lay  was  devoid 
of  beauty,  and  the  soil  wretchedly  poor.  The  whole 
country  had  evidently  at  one  time  been  under  cultiva- 
tion, but  in  much  of  it  the  plough  had  long  ceased  from 
labour,  and  the  forest  had  already  resumed  its  ancient 
rights.  The  weather  added  to  the  bleakness  of  the  land- 
scape, and  though  the  coach  crept  on  with  the  velocity 
of  a  tortoise,  it  was  not  till  long  after  dark  that  we  reached 
Bristol.  Here  we  took  boat  again,  and  our  troubles 
were  at  an  end.  A  plentiful  dinner  contributed  to  be- 
guile the  distance,  and  the  city  clocks  were  in  the  act  of 
chiming  ten  as  we  landed  on  the  quay  of  Philadelphia. 

Having  procured  a  coach,  I  drove  to  Head's  hotel, 
xvhich  had  been  recommended  to  me  as  one  of  the  best 
houses  in  the  Union.  Here  I  could  only  procure  a  small 
and  nasty  bed-room,  lighted  by  a  few  panes  of  glass  fixed 
in  the  wall,  some  eight  or  ten  feet  from  the  floor.  On 
the  following  morning,  therefore,  I  removed  to  the 
United  Slates  Hotel,  where  I  found  the  accommodation 
excellent.  My  letters  of  introduction  were  then  des- 
patched, with  the  result  which  my  experience  of  Ame- 
rican kindness  had  led  me  to  anticipate. 

Philadelphia  stands  on  an  isthmus  about  two  miles 
wide,  between  the  Delaware  and  the  Schuylkill.  Below 
the  city,  both  rivers  are  navigable  for  vessels  of  any 
class,  but  the  severity  of  the  winter  climate  generally 
causes  an  interruption  to  the  communication  with  the 
sea,  of  considerable  duration.  As  a  great  seat  of  com- 
merce the  advantage  is  altogether  on  the  side  of  New 
York.  Philadelphia  has  but  trifling  extent  of  river  com- 
munication with  the  interior.  The  Delaware  is  naviga- 
ble only  for  about  thirty  miles  above  the  city,  and  the 
Schuylkill  is  too  full  of  shoals  and  rapids  to  be  practica- 
ble for  any  thing  but  small  craft.  To  remedy  this  in- 


180  PUBLIC^BUILDINGS. 

convenience  there  are  several  canals,  and  others  are  in 
progress,  which  must  contribute  largely  to  the  prosperity 
of  the  State. 

There  is  nothing  striking  in  the  appearance  of  Phila- 
delphia, when  seen  from  the  river.  It  stands  on  a  flat 
surface,  a*nd  presents  no  single  object  of  beauty  or  gran- 
deur to  arrest  the  attention.  Spires  may  be  monsters  in 
architecture,  but  they  are  beautiful  monsters,  and  the 
eye  feels  a  sad  want  of  them,  as  it  wanders  over  the  un- 
varied extent  of  dull  uniform  building  presented  by  Phi- 
ladelphia. When  one  enters  the  city,  the  scene  is  cer- 
tainly improved,  but  not  much.  The  streets  are  rather 
respectable  than  handsome,  but  there  is  every  where  so 
much  appearance  of  real  comfort,  that  the  traveller  is  at 
first  delighted  with  this  Quaker  paradise.  He  looks 
from  the  carriage  windows  prepared  to  see  every  thing 
couleur  de  rose.  The  vehicle  rolls  on;  he  praises  the 
cleanness  and  neatness  of  the  houses,  and  every  street 
that  presents  itself  seems  an  exact  copy  of  those  which 
he  has  left  behind.  In  short,  before  he  has  got  through 
half  the  city,  he  feels  an  unusual  tendency  to  relaxation 
about  the  region  of  the  mouth,  which  ultimately  termi- 
nates in  a  silent  but  prolonged  yawn. 

Philadelphia  is  mediocrity  personified  in  brick  and 
mortar.  It  is  a  city  laid  down  by  square  and  rule,  a 
a  sort  of  habitable  problem, — a  mathematical  infringe- 
ment on  the  rights  of  individual  eccentricity, — a  rigid 
and  prosaic  despotism  of  right  angles  and  parallelograms. 
It  may  emphatically  be  called  a  comfortable  city,  that 
is,  the  houses  average  better  than  in  any  other  with 
which  I  am  acquainted.  You  here  see  no  miserable  and 
filthy  streets,  the  refuge  of  squalid  poverty,  forming  a 
contrast  to  the  splendour  of  squares  and  crescents.  No 
Dutch  town  can  be  cleaner,  and  the  marble  stairs  and 
window-sills  of  the  better  houses,  give  an  agreeable  re- 
lief to  the  red  brick  of  which  they  are  constructed. 

The  public  buildings  are  certainly  superior  to  any  I 
have  yet  seen  in  America.  Some  of  the  churches  are 
handsome,  and  the  United  States  Bank,  with  its  marble 
portico  of  Grecian  Doric,  gives  evidence,  I  trust,  of  an 
improving  taste.  I  confess,  however,  that  my  hopes  on 
this  matter  are  not  very  strong.  Even  persons  of  infor- 
mation are  evidently  unable  to  appreciate  the  true  merit 


WATER-WORKS.  181 

of  the  building  or  the  architect,  and  connect  ridicule 
with  both,  by  declaring  the  former  to  be  "  the  finest 
building  in  the  world!"  Is  a  poor  traveller  in  the  United 
States,  when  continually  beset  by  such  temptation,  to  be 
held  utterly  inexcusable,  if  he  sometimes  venture  to  in- 
dulge in  a  sneer? 

The  Bank  of  Pennsylvania  is  another  structure  enti- 
tled to  applause.  Its  front  presents  a  flight  of  steps  sus- 
taining an  Ionic  portico  of  six  columns,  with  an  entabla- 
ture and  pediment.  The  banking-house  of  Mr.  Girard, 
— the  Coutts  of  the  Union, — is  likewise  handsome. 
Like  the  two  buildings  I  have  already  mentioned,  its 
whole  front  is  of  marble,  but  in  taste  it  is  far  less  chaste, 
and  presents  more  faults  than  I  have  time  or  inclination 
to  enumerate.  There  are  likewise  two  buildings  of 
some  pretension,  in  the  Gothic  style.  Both  are  con- 
temptible. 

The  State  House,  from  which  issued  the  declaration  of 
American  independence,  is  yet  standing.  It  is  built  of 
brick,  and  consists  of  a  centre  and  two  wings,  without 
ornament  of  any  sort.  There  is  something  appropriate, 
and  even  imposing  in  its  very  plainness.  Above,  is  a 
small  cupola  with  a  clock,  which,  at  night,  is  illuminated 
by  gas. 

The  Philadelphians,  however,  pride  themselves  far 
more  on  their  water-works  than  on  their  State  House. 
Their  lo  Pceans  on  account  of  the  former,  are  loud  and 
unceasing,  and  I  must  say,  the  annoyance  which  these 
occasion  to  a  traveller,  is  very  considerable.  A  dozen 
times  a-day  was  I  asked  whether  I  had  seen  the  water- 
works, and  on  my  answering  in  the  negative,  I  was  told 
that  I  positively  must  visit  them;  that  they  were  unri- 
valled in  the  world;  that  no  people  but  the  Americans 
could  have  executed  such  works,  and  by  implication, 
that  no  one  but  an  Englishman,  meanly  jealous  of  Ame- 
rican superiority,  would  omit  an  opportunity  of  admiring 
their  unrivalled  mechanism. 

There  is  no  accounting  for  the  eccentricities  of  human 
character.  I  had  not  heard  these  circumstances  repeated 
above  fifty  times,  ere  I  began  to  .run  restive,  and  deter- 
mined not  to  visit  the  water-works  at  all.  To  this  resolu- 
tion I  adhered,  in  spite  of  all  annoyance,  with  a  pertt- 


182  WISTAR  PARTIES. 

nacity  worthy  of  a  better  cause.  Of  the  water-works 
of  Philadelphia,  therefore,  I  know  nothing,  and  any 
reader  particularly  solicitous  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  principle  of  this  remarkable  piece  of  machinery, 
must  consult  the  pages  of  other  travellers. 

I  had  the  honour  of  being  present  at  an  annual  cele- 
bration of  the  American  Philosophical  Society.  About 
a  hundred  members  sat  down  to  a  most  excellent  supper, 
and  the  wine  and  punch  were  equally  unimpeachable. 
The  President,  Mr.  Du  Ponceau,  then  made  a  speech,  in 
which  he  gave  a  very  interesting  account  of  the  rise 
and  progress  of  the  Society  to  its  present  flourishing 
condition.  It  was  originally  established  by  Franklin, 
and  a  few  of  his  fellow-tradesmen,  who  met  in  some 
back-room  of  an  obscure  tavern,  and  having  supped  on 
bread  and  cheese,  enjoyed  the  feast  of  reason  over  a  pot 
of  London  Particular.  The  Society  now  includes  in  its 
members  all  that  America  can  boast  of  eminence  in  li- 
terature or  science. 

On  the  following  evening,  I  passed  an  hour  or  two  very 
agreeably  at,  one  of  a  series  of  meetings,  which  are  called 
'*  Wistar  Parties,"  from  the  name  of  the  gentleman  at 
whose  house  they  were  first  held.  Their  effect  and  in- 
fluence on  society  must  be  very  salutary.  These  par- 
ties bring  together  men  of  different  classes  and  pursuits, 
and  promote  the  free  interchange  of  opinion,  always  use- 
ful for  the  correction  of  prejudice.  Such  intercourse, 
too,  prevents  the  narrowness  of  thought,  and  exaggerated 
estimate  of  the  value  of  our  own  peculiar  acquirements, 
which  devotion  to  one  exclusive  object  is  apt  to  engender 
in  those  who  do  not  mix  freely  with  the  world. 

These  meetings  are  held  by  rotation  at  the  houses  of 
the  different  members.  The  conversation  is  generally 
literary  or  scientific,  and  as  the  party  is  usuall^very  large, 
it  can  be  varied  at  pleasure.  Philosophers  eat  like  other 
men,  and  the  precaution  of  an  excellent  supper  is  by  no 
means  found  to  be  superfluous.  It  acts,  too,  as  a  gentle 
emollient  on  the  acrimony  of  debate.  No  man  can  say 
a  harsh  thing  with  his  mouth  full  of  turkey,  and  dispu- 
tants forget  their  differences  in  unity  of  enjoyment. 

At  these  parties,  I  met  several  ingenious  men  of  a 
class  something  below  that  of  the  ordinary  members. 


PECULIARITIES  OF  PHILADELPHIA.  183 

When  an  operative  mechanic  attracts  notice  by  his  zeal 
for  improvement  in  any  branch  of  science,  he  is  al- 
most uniformly  invited  to  the  Wistar  meetings.  The 
advantage  of  this  policy  is  obviously  very  great.  A  mo- 
dest and  deserving  man  is  brought  into  notice.  His  er- 
rors are  corrected,  his  ardour  is  stimulated,  his  taste  im- 
proved. A  healthy  connexion  is  kept  up  between  the 
different  classes  of  society,  and  the  feeling  of  mutual 
sympathy  is  duly  cherished.  During  my  stay  in  Phila- 
delphia I  was  present  at  several  of  these  Wistar  meet- 
ings, and  always  returned  from  them  with  increased  con- 
viction of  their  beneficial  tendency. 

Most  of  the  great  American  cities  have  a  peculiar  cha- 
racter,— a  sort  of  civic  idiosyncracy,  which  distinguishes 
their  population  even  to  the  eye  of  an  unpractised  ob- 
server. There  is  no  mistaking  that  of  Philadelphia;  it  is 
Quaker  all  over.  All  things,  animate  and  inanimate, 
seem  influenced  by  a  spirit  of  quietism  as  pervading  as 
the  atmosphere.  The  manners  of  the  higher  orders  are 
somewhat  more  reserved  than  in  other  parts  of  the  Union, 
and  I  must  say  that  all  ranks  are  particularly  free  from 
the  besetting  sin  of  curiosity.  Fortunately  for  travellers, 
it  is  not  here  considered  essential  that  they  should  dis- 
close every  circumstance  connected  with  their  past  life 
and  opinions. 

Philadelphia  is  par  excellence  a  city  of  mediocrity.  Its 
character  is  republican,  not  democratic.  One  can  read 
the  politics  of  its  inhabitants  in  the  very  aspect  of  the 
streets.  A  coarse  and  vulgar  demagogue  would  have  no 
chance  among  a  people  so  palpably  observant  of  the  pro- 
prieties, both  moral  and  political.  The  Philadelphians 
are  no  traffickers  in  extremes  of  any  sort,  and  were  I  to 
form  my  opinion  of  a  government,  from  the  impression 
made  by  its  policy  on  some  particular  district  of  the 
Union,  I  should  certainly  take  this  enlightened  and  re- 
spectable city  as  the  guide  and  standard  of  my  creed. 

The  chief  defect  of  Philadelphia  is  want  of  variety. 
It  is  just  such  a  city  as  a  young  lady  would  cut  out  of  a 
thread  paper, — 

Street  answers  street,  each  alley  has  a  brother, 
And  half  the  city  just  reflects  the  other. 

Something  is  certainly  wanted  to  relieve  that  unbroken 


184  THE  PENITENTIARY. 

uniformity,  which  tires  the  eye  and  stupifies  the  imagina- 
tion. One  would  give  the  world  for  something  to  admire 
or  to  condemn,  and  would  absolutely  rejoice,  for  the  mere 
sake  of  variety,  to  encounter  a  row  of  log  huts,  or  to  get 
immersed  in  a  congress  of  dark  and  picturesque  doses, 
such  as  delight  all  travellers — without  noses — in  the  old 
town  of  Edinburgh. 

The  Utilitarian  principle  is  observed,  even  in  the  no- 
menclature of  the  streets.  Those  running  in  one  direc- 
tion are  denoted  by  the  name  of  some  particular  tree, — 
such  as  vine,  cedar,  chesnut,  spruce,  &c.  The  cross- 
streets  are  distinguished  by  numbers,  so  that  a  stranger 
has  no  difficulty  in  finding  his  way,  since  the  name  of  the 
street  indicates  its  situation.  Market  Street  is  the  great 
thoroughfare  of  the  city,  and  stretches  from  one  river  to 
another,  an  extent  of  several  miles.  The  streets  are  ge- 
nerally skirted  by  rows  of  Lombardy  poplars,  for  what 
reason  I  know  not.  They  certainly  give  no  shade,  and 
possess  no  beauty. 

Notwithstanding  the  attractions  of  Philadelphia,  it  was 
not  my  intention  to  have  remained  there  longer  than  a 
week,  but  while  engaged  in  preparation  for  departure,  a 
deep  fall  of  snow  came  on,  and  the  communications  of  the 
city  were  at  once  cut  off.  A  week  passed  without  intel- 
ligence from  the  northward,  and  even  the  southern  mails 
were  several  days  in  arrear.  The  snow  lay  deep  on  the 
streets,  and  wheeled  carriages  were  of  necessity  ex- 
changed for  sledges,  or,  as  they  are  usually  called,  sleighs. 
Of  course,  it  would  have  been  absurd  for  a  traveller, 
with  no  motive  for  expedition,  to  commence  a  journey 
under  such  circumstances,  and  I  determined  to  prolong 
my  stay  until  the  roads  should  be  reported  in  such  condi- 
tion as  to  threaten  no  risk  of  detention  in  my  route  to 
Baltimore. 

During  this  interval  I  visited  the  Penitentiary.  It 
stands  about  two  miles  from  the  city,  but  owing  to  the 
depth  of  snow,  the  sleigh  could  not  approach  within  a 
considerable  distance  of  the  building,  and  the  pedestrian 
part  of  the  excursion  presented  much  difficulty.  A  thin 
icy  crust  had  formed  over  the  surface  of  the  snow,  which 
often  gave  way  beneath  the  foot,  and  more  than  once  I 
was  immersed  to  the  shoulders, 


DISCIPLINE  OF  THE  PRISON.  ISB 

I  did,  however,  reach  the  Penitentiary  at  last.  It  is  a 
square  granite  building  of  great  extent,  with  a  tower  at 
each  angle,  and  the  walls  enclose  a  space  of  ten  acres. 
In  the  centre  of  the  area  stands  an  observatory,  from 
which  it  is  intended  that  seven  corridors  shall  radiate,  but 
three  only  have  been  yet  completed.  The  cells  are  ar- 
ranged on  either  side  of  these  corridors,  with  which  they 
communicate  by  a  square  aperture,  which  may  be  opened 
at  pleasure  from  without.  There  is  likewise  a  small  eye- 
hole, commanding  a  complete  view  of  the  cell,  and  at- 
tached to  each  is  a  walled  court,  in  which  the  prisoner 
may  take  exercise.  The  only  entrance  to  the  cells  lies 
through  these  court-yards. 

The  system  pursued  in  this  institution  is  entirely  diffe- 
rent from  that  which,  in  a  former  part  of  this  volume,  I 
have  had  occasion  to  describe.  No  punishment  is  per- 
mitted within  its  walls  but  that  of  solitary  confinement. 
Nothing  is  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  gaoler,  or  his  as- 
sistants, and  all  risk  of  abuse  is  thus  obviated.  I  cannot 
but  consider  this  as  an  inestimable  advantage.  If  discre- 
tionary power  be  confessedly  dangerous  when  exercised 
by  a  judge  in  open  court,  under  the  strong  check  of  pub- 
lic opinion,  what  are  we  to  say  of  it  when  confined  to  a 
gaoler,  and  exercised  without  responsibility  of  any  sort, 
amid  the  secrecy  of  his  prison-house  ? 

The  warder  of  the  establishment  struck  me  as  a  person 
of  much  enthusiasm  and  benevolence.  He  evidently  took 
pleasure  in  affording  every  information  in  regard  to  the 
practical  operation  of  the  system,  though  its  introduction 
is  too  recent  to  afford  room  for  any  conclusive  appeal  to 
experience.  The  punishment  originally  contemplated  in 
this  prison  was  solitary  confinement,  unmitigated  by  la- 
bour. All  experience  is  against  the  practicability  of  com- 
bining this  system  with  the  continuance  of  bodily  health 
and  mental  sanity  in  the  prisoners.  It  was,  therefore, 
wisely  given  up,  and  of  that  adopted  in  its  stead  1  shall 
now  offer  a  few  details. 

A  convict,  on  arriving  at  the  prison,  is  blind-folded, 
and  conveyed  to  a  room,  where  his  hair  is  cut,  and  after 
a  complete  personal  ablution,  he  is  led  with  the  same 
precaution,  to  the  cell  destined  for  his  reception.  He  is 
thus  kept  in  ignorance  of  the  localities  of  the  prison,  and 
'  24 


186  DEFECTS  OF  THE  PENITENTIARY. 

the  chances  of  escape  are  diminished.  Each  cell  is  pro- 
vided with  an  iron  bedstead,  a  comfortable  mattrass,  two 
blankets,  and  a  pillow.  There  is  likewise  a  water-cock 
and  tin  mug,  so  that  the  prisoner  may  supply  himself  ad 
libitum  with  the  pure  element.  The  cells  are  heated  by 
pipes,  and  though  I  visited  the  prison  in  the  very  coldest 
weather,  the  temperature  was  very  pleasant. 

When  a  prisoner  is  first  received,  he  is  uniformly  left 
to  enjoy  the  full  privilege  of  solitary  idleness;  but  in  the 
course  of  a  short  time  he  generally  makes  application  for 
work,  and  for  a  Bible.  Each  man  is  permitted  to  select 
his  own  trade,  and  those  who  understand  none  when  they 
enter  the  prison  are  taught  one.  The  allowance  of  food 
is  good  and  plentiful,  but  those  who  refuse  to  work,  are 
kept  on  a  reduced  allowance.  Their  number,  however, 
is  exceedingly  small,  and  the  great  majority  consider 
even  the  temporary  withdrawal  of  work  as  a  severe  pu- 
nishment. 

Having  taken  up  rather  strong  opinions  with  regard  to 
the  injurious  influence  of  solitary  confinement,  I  was  ra- 
ther anxious  to  have  an  opportunity  of  conversing  with  a 
few  of  the  prisoners.  To  this  no  objection  was  made,  and 
I  was  accordingly  ushered  into  the  cell  of  a  black  shoe- 
maker, convicted  of  theft,  whom  I  found  very  comforta- 
bly seated  at  his  trade.  I  asked  him  many  questions, 
which  he  answered  with  great  cheerfulness.  He  had 
been  confined — I  think — for  eighteen  months,  yet  this 
long  period  of  separation  from  his  fellow-creatures  had 
occasioned  no  derangement  of  his  functions,  bodily  or 
mental.  I  likewise  conversed  with  two  other  prisoners, 
and  the  result  of  my  observation  certainly  was  the  con- 
•  viction,  that  solitary  confinement,  when  associated  with 
labour,  is  by  no  means  liable  to  the  objections  which  I 
have  often  heard  urged  to  its  adoption  as  a  punishment. 
I  have  likewise  the  assurance  of  the  warder,  that  during 
his  whole  experience,  he  has  not  known  a  single  instance 
of  the  discipline  adopted  being  found  prejudicial  to  health, 
either  of  mind  or  body. 

There  is  undoubtedly  much  that  is  admirable  in  this 
Penitentiary,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  either  the  plan  or 
the  practice  of  the  establishment  is  so  perfect  as  to  admit 
of  no  improvement.  In  the  first  place,  I  cannot  but  think 


DEFECTS  OF  THE  PENITENTIARY.  137 

that  the  Panopticon  principle  is  on  the  whole  preferable. 
Facility  of  supervision  is  always  important,  and  there  is 
no  point  in  the  present  prison  from  which  the  keeper  can 
command  a  general  and  complete  view,  either  of  the  cells 
or  of  the  exercise  yards.  The  central  observatory  com- 
mands only  the  corridors.  In  the  second  place,  it  strikes 
me  as  a  defect  that  there  should  be  no  entrance  to  the 
cells  from  the  corridors,  by  which  a  far  more  ready  and 
convenient  access  would  be  obtained.  There  is  also  a 
defect  in  the  construction  of  the  exercise  courts,  in  which 
it  is  quite  possible  for  the  adjoining  prisoners  to  hold  con- 
versation. 

There  is  no  chapel  attached  to  this  establishment,  and 
when  divine  service  is  performed,  the  clergyman  takes 
his  station  at  the  head  of  the  corridors:  the  apertures 
communicating  with  the  cells  are  thrown  open,  and  his 
voice,  I  am  assured,  is  distinctly  audible,  even  by  the 
most  distant  prisoner.  Strange  to  say,  however — and  I 
confess  that  in  a  state  so  religious  as  Pennsylvania,  the 
fact  struck  me  with  astonishment — morning  and  eve- 
ning prayers  are  unknown  in  the  Penitentiary.  Surely, 
it  is  both  wholesome  and  fitting  that  the  days  of  these 
suffering  criminals  should  be  begun  and  ended  by  an  ap- 
peal to  the  mercy  of  that  Maker,  whose  laws  they  have 
violated.  It  is  true,  that  divine  service  is  performed 
once  every  Sunday;  but  this  will  scarcely  be  held  suffi- 
cient, either  by  the  moralist,  who  simply  regards  the  in- 
terest of  society  in  the  reformation  of  a  criminal,  or  by 
him  whose  philanthropy  is  connected  with  the  higher 
hopes  and  motives  of  religion. 

On  the  whole,  I  am  inclined  to  prefer  the  system  of 
solitary  confinement  to  that  adopted  in  the  prisons  at  Au- 
burn and  Charleston.  The  former  obviates  all  necessity 
for  punishment  of  any  kind,  beyond  that  inflicted  by  the 
execution  of  the  sentence.  Whatever  be  his  sufferings, 
the  prisoner  has  the  distinct  knowledge  that  they  are  not 
arbitrary  or  extra-judicial.  Even  amidst  the  solitude  of 
his  cell,  he  feels  that  he  is,  in  one  sense,  a  free.  man. 
He  undergoes  the  sentence  of  the  law,  but  he  is  not  de- 
pendent on  the  capricious  discretion  of  those  by  whom 
he  is  surrounded.  In  Charleston,  each  prisoner  knows 
himself  to  be  a  slave.  His  punishment  is,  in  truth,  un- 


188        COMPARISON  OF  SOLITARY  CONFINEMENT 

limited;  for  its  only  measure  is  the  conscience  of  his 
gaoler,  an  unknown  and  indeterminate  quantity. 

There  is  nothing  humiliating  in  solitary  confinement. 
The  interests  of  society  are  protected  by  the  removal  of 
the  criminal,  while  the  new  circumstances  in  which  he 
is  placed  are  precisely  the  most  favourable  to  moral  im- 
provement. It  is  the  numerous  temptations  of  the  world, 
the  scope  which  it  affords  for  the  gratification  of  strong 
passion,  that  overpower  the  better  principles  implanted 
in  the  heart  of  the  most  depraved  of  mankind.  Remove 
these  temptations,  place  the  criminal  in  a  situation  where 
there  are  no  warring  influences  to  mislead  his  judgment; 
let  him  receive  religious  instruction,  and  be  taught  the 
nature  and  extent  of  his  moral  obligations,  and  when, 
after  such  preparation,  he  is  left  to  reflection,  and  com- 
munion with  his  own  conscience,  all  that  human  agency 
can  effect,  has  probably  been  done  for  his  reformation. 

Solitary  confinement  contributes  to  all  this.  It  throws 
the  mind  of  the  criminal  back  upon  itself.  It  forces  him 
to  think  who  never  thought  before.  It  removes  all  ob- 
jects which  can  stimulate  the  evil  passions  of  his  nature. 
It  restores  the  prisoner  to  society;  if  not  "a  wiser  and  a 
better  man,"  at  least  undegraded  by  a  course  of  servile 
submission.  His  punishment  has  been  that  of  a  man, 
not  of  a  brute.  He  has  suffered  privation,  but  not  in- 
dignity. He  has  submitted  to  the  law,  and  to  the  law 
alone,  and  whatever  debasement  may  still  attach  to  his 
character,  is  the  offspring  of  his  crime,  not  of  his  pe- 
nalty. 

The  other  system  is  far  less  favourable,  I  should  ima- 
gine, to  moral  improvement.  The  gaoler  must  necessa- 
rily appear  to  the  prisoners  in  the  light  of  an  arbitrary 
tyrant.  He  is  an  object  of  fear  and  hatred.  His  inflic- 
tions are  accompanied  by  none  of  the  solemnities  of  jus- 
tice, and  they  are  naturally  followed  by  smothered  ran- 
cour and  desire  of  revenge.  Even  where  there  is  no 
abuse  of  authority,  it  is  impossible  for  those  subjected  to 
it,  to  appreciate  the  motives  for  its  rigid  exercise.  They 
cannot  be  supposed  to  discriminate,  between  severity 
and  cruelty. 

All  this  is  unfortunate.  The  character  of  the  prisoners 
is  rendered  callous  to  shame;  while  their  evil  passions  are 


WITH  THE  CHARLESTON  SYSTEM.  199 

in  a  state  of  permanent  excitement.  They  are  taught 
obedience  like  spaniels,  and  by  the  same  means.  They 
are  forced  down  to  the  very  lowest  point  of  human  de- 
basement. Never  again  shall  these  men  know  the  dig- 
nity of  self-respect;  never  again  can  they  feel  themselves 
on  a  level  with  their  fellow-men.  Human  endurance 
can  extend  no  farther  than  they  have  carried  it;  and  it 
were  well  that  American  legislators  should  remember, 
that  it  is  easy  to  degrade  the  freeman,  but  impossible  to 
elevate  the  slave. 

One  great  advantage  belongs  to  the  Philadelphia  sys- 
tem. A  prisoner,  on  being  discharged,  enters  the  world 
without  danger  of  recognition,  and  thus  enjoys  the  benefit 
of  starting  with  a  fair  character.  If  his  confinement  has 
been  long,  disease  and  the  gibbet  have  probably  disposed 
of  the  great  majority  of  his  former  companions  in  crime, 
and  in  a  country  like  the  United  States,  nothing  but  ho- 
nest industry  is  wanting  to  the  attainment  of  indepen- 
dence. But  a  convict  discharged  from  a  prison  like  those 
of  Charleston  and  Auburn,  must  continue  through  life  a 
marked  man.  His  face  is  known  to  thousands,  and,  go 
where  he  will — unless  he  fly  altogether  from  the  haunts 
of  men — the  story  of  his  past  life  will  follow  him.  Ex- 
cluded from  communion  with  the  more  respectable  por- 
tion of  the  community,  he  will  probably  again  seek  his 
associates  among  the  dissolute.  His  former  course  of  crime 
will  then  be  renewed,  and  all  hope  of  reformation  will  be 
at  an  end  for  ever. 

It  is  impossible,  however,  to  praise  too  highly  that 
active  benevolence,  which,  in  America,  takes  so  deep  an 
interest  in  the  reformation  of  the  objects  of  punishment. 
In  their  meliorations  of  prison  discipline,  the  people  of 
this  country  have  unquestionably  taken  the  lead  of  Eu- 
rope. In  old-established  communities  the  progress  of  im- 
provement is  necessarily  slow,  and  there  are  difficulties 
to  be  overcome  which  are  fortunately  unknown  on  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic.  Let  the  Americans,  therefore,  con- 
tinue as  they  have  begun,  to  lead  the  way  in  this  im- 
portant department  of  practical  philanthropy.  By  doing 
so,  they  will  earn  a  distinction  for  their  country  more  ho- 
nourable than  could  result  from  the  highest  eminence  in 
arts,  or  achievements  in  arms. 


190  UNIVERSITY  OF  PENNSYLVANIA. 

Of  all  the  American  colleges  beyond  the  limits  of  New 
England,  that  of  Pennsylvania  is  perhaps  the  most  distin- 
guished. Its  medical  school  is  decidedly  so,  and  an  Escu- 
lapian  armed  with  a  Philadelphia  diploma,  is  held  to  com- 
mit slaughter  on  his  fellow-creatures  according  to  the 
most  approved  principles  of  modern  science.  Till  within 
a  few  years,  however,  the  scientific  and  literary  depart- 
ments of  this  institution  had  fallen  into  comparative  ne- 
glect. But  a  revolution  in  an  American  college  is  an  ea- 
sier affair  than  the  introduction  of  the  most  trifling  change 
in  such  establishments  as  Oxford  or  Cambridge.  The 
statutes  were  revised  by  a  board  of  trustees  appointed  for 
the  purpose.  The  system  of  education  was  corrected  and 
enlarged,  and  men  of  competent  talent  and  acquirements 
were  invited  to  preside  over  the  various  departments  of 
instruction.  A  new  edifice  was  erected,  and  an  extensive 
addition  made  to  the  former  beggarly  account  of  philo- 
sophical apparatus.  The  natural  consequences  followed. 
The  number  of  students  was  considerably  increased,  and 
the  benefits  of  the  institution  were  augmented,  not  only 
in  magnitude,  but  in  extent  of  diffusion. 

Jn  this  establishment,  there  is  no  discretion  permitted 
in  regard  to  the  course  of  study  to  be  followed  by  the  stu- 
dent. Every  one  is  compelled  to  travel  in  the  same  track, 
and  to  reach  the  same  point,  whatever  may  be  his  future 
destination  in  life.  It  is,  perhaps,  quite  right  that  such 
portions  of  a  university  course  should  be  considered  im- 
perative, as  relate  to  the  preparatory  development  of  the 
intellectual  powers;  but  it  does  appear  somewhat  absurd 
to  insist  on  cramming  every  boy  with  mathematics,  che- 
mistry, and  natural  philosophy.  In  America,  the  period 
devoted  to  education  is  so  short,  that  there  can  be  no  folly 
greater  than  that  of  frittering  it  away  in  a  variety  of  pur- 
suits, which  contribute  little  to  the  general  elevation  of 
the  intellect.  It  is  the  certain  result  of  attempting  too 
much,  that  nothing  will  be  accomplished.  With  such  a 
system  of  education,  the  standard  of  acquirement  must  of 
necessity  be  greatly  lower  than  in  other  countries,  where 
excellence  in  some  one  department  constitutes  the  great 
object  of  individual  ambition.  The  truth  of  this  position 
is  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  state  of  knowledge  in 
America.  In  illustration  of  it,  I  shall  direct  the  attention 


SYSTEM  OF  EDUCATION.  19  J 

of  the  reader  to  an  extract  from  the  report  of  the  Board 
of  Trustees  of  this  very  University  of  Pennsylvania.  Al- 
luding to  the  prescribed  course  of  education,  these  gentle- 
men assure  the  public,  that  "  Its  object  is  to  communicate 
a  profound  and  critical  knowledge  of  the  classics ;  an  exten- 
sive acquaintance  with  the  different  branches  of  mathemati- 
cal science,  natural  philosophy,  and  chemistry,  combined 
with  all  the  varieties  of  knowledge  comprehended  within 
the  sphere  of  moral  philosophy,  logic,  rhetoric,  metaphysics, 
and  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  This  course  of  instruction 
will  occupy  FOUR  YEARS!" 

Had  the  number  of  years  to  be  devoted  to  the  acquisi- 
tion of  this  vast  mass  of  knowledge  been  forty  instead  of 
four,  the  promise  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  might  still  have 
been  objectionable  on  the  score  of  hyperbole.  In  Europe 
no  body  of  gentlemen  connected  with  any  public  semina- 
ry, durst  have  ventured  on  such  a  statement.  Respect 
for  their  own  character,  and  the  certainty  of  ridicule, 
would  have  prevented  it.  But  in  America  it  is  different. 
The  standard  of  knowledge  being  there  infinitely  lower, 
the  Trustees  promised  nothing  more  than  they  might  rea- 
sonably hope  to  accomplish.  On  the  Western  shores  of 
the  Atlantic,  a  young  man  is  believed  to  have  "  a  pro- 
found and  critical  knowledge  of  the  classics,"  when  he 
can  manage  to  construe  a  passage  of  Caesar  or  Virgil,  and 
— by  the  help  of  the  lexicon — haply  of  Xenophon  or  Ana- 
creon.  And  so  .with  the  other  branches  of  acquirement. 
In  mathematics,  it  is  scarcely  meant  to  be  implied  that 
the  student  shall  have  mastered  the  works  of  La  Grange 
or  La  Place;  nor  in  metaphysics,  that  he  shall  even  un- 
derstand the  philosophy  of  Kant  or  Cousin,  but  simply  that 
he  shall  have  acquired  enough  to  constitute,  in  the  eyes 
of  the  American  public,  "  an  extensive  acquaintance  with 
the  different  branches  of  mathematical  science,  combined 
with  all  the  varieties  of  knowledge  comprehended  within 
the  sphere  of  moral  philosophy,  logic,  rhetoric,  and  meta- 
physics." 

It  thus  appears  that  what  in  one  country  would  be  no- 
thing better  than  impudent  quackery,  becomes  the  lan- 
guage of  sober  truth  in  another.  The  same  terms  carry 
different  meanings  on  different  sides  of  the  water,  and  the 
cause  of  the  discrepancy  is  too  obvious  to  be  mistaken. 


192  STATE  OF  LITERATURE. 

Having  alluded  to  this  subject,  I  would  willingly  be  per- 
mitted to  offer  a  few  observations  on  the  interesting  ques- 
tion,— How  far  the  condition  of  society  in  the  United 
States,  and  the  influence  of  its  institutions  are  favourable, 
or  otherwise,  to  the  cultivation  of  philosophy  and  the 
higher  literature  ? 

The  termination  of  the  Revolutionary  war  left  the  United 
States  with  a  population  graduating  in  civilization  from 
slaves  to  planters.  The  scale  went  low  enough,  but  unfor- 
tunately not  very  high.  The  great  mass  of  the  white  po- 
pulation, especially  in  the  Northern  States,  were  by  ne 
means  deficient  in  such  education  as  was  suited  to  their 
circumstances.  In  a  country  to  which  abject  poverty 
was  happily  a  stranger,  there  existed  few  obstacles  to  the 
general  diffusion  of  elementary  instruction.  But  between 
the  amount  of  acquirement  of  the  richer  and  the  poorer 
orders,  little  disparity  existed.  Where  the  necessity  of 
labour  was  imposed  on  all,  it  was  not  probable  that  any 
demand  should  exist  for  learning  not  immediately  con- 
nected with  the  business  of  life.  To  the  grower  of  indi- 
go or  tobacco;  to  the  feller  of  timber,  or  the  retailer  of 
cutlery  and  dry  goods,  the  refinements  of  literature  were 
necessarily  unknown.  In  her  whole  population,  America 
did  not  number  a  single  scholar,  in  the  higher  acceptation 
of  the  term,  and  had  every  book  in  her  whole  territory 
been  contributed  to  form  a  national  library,  it  would  not 
have  afforded  the  materials  from  which  a  scholar  could 
be  framed. 

It  is  true,  that  in  several  of  the  States  there  existed  col- 
leges, but  these  were  little  better  than  schools  without 
the  necessary  discipline;  and  had  their  pretensions  been 
greater,  it  is  very  certain  that  such  poor  and  distant  es- 
tablishments could  offer  no  inducement  to  foreigners  of 
high  acquirement,  to  exchange  "  the  ampler  ether,  the  di- 
viner air,"  of  their  native  universities,  for  the  atmosphere 
of  Yale  or  Harvard.  At  all  events,  the  Americans  had 
no  desire  to  draw  our  men  of  letters  from  their  learned 
retreats.  In  the  condition  of  society  I  have  described,  it 
was  impossible  that  learning  should  engross  any  portion  of 
the  public  favour.  Even  to  the  present  day,  the  value 
of  education  in  the  United  States  is  estimated,  not  by  its 
result  on  the  mind  of  the  student,  in  strengthening  his  fa- 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  CLERGY.        193 

culties,  purifying  his  taste,  and  enlarging  and  elevating 
the  sphere  of  thought  and  consciousness,  but  by  the  amount 
of  available  knowledge  which  it  enables  him  to  bring  to  the 
common  business  of  life. 

The  consequences  of  this  error,  when  participated  in 
by  a  whole  nation,  have  been  most  pernicious.  It  has 
unquestionably  contributed  to  perpetuate  the  very  igno- 
rance in  which  it  originated.  It  has  done  its  part,  in  con- 
nexion with  other  causes,  in  depriving  the  United  States 
of  the  most  enduring  source  of  national  greatness.  Nor 
can  we  hope  that  the  evil  will  be  removed,  until  the  vul- 
gar and  unworthy  sophistry  which  has  imposed  on  the 
judgment,  even  of  the  most  intelligent  Americans,  shall 
cease  to  influence  some  wiser  and  unborn  generation. 

The  education  of  the  clergy  differed  in  little  from  that 
of  laymen.  Of  theological  learning  there  was  none,  nor 
did  there  exist  the  means  of  acquiring  it.  It  is  probable, 
that  within  the  limits  of  the  United  States,  there  was  not 
to  be  found  a  single  company  of  the  works  of  the  Fathers. 
But  this  mattered  not.  Protestantism  is  never  very  ame- 
nable to  authority,  and  least  of  all  when  combined  with 
democracy.  Neither  the  pastors  nor  their  flocks  were  in- 
clined to  attach  much  value  to  primitive  authority,  and 
from  the  solid  rock  of  the  Scriptures,  each  man  was  pleased 
to  hew  out  his  own  religion,  in  such  form  and  propor- 
tions as  were  suited  to  the  measure  of  his  taste  and  know- 
ledge. It  was  considered  enough  that  the  clergy  could 
read  the  Bible  in  their  vernacular  tongue,  and  expound 
its  doctrines  to  the  satisfaction  of  a  congregation,  not  more 
learned  than  themselves.  To  the  present  day,  in  one  only 
of  the  colleges  has  any  provision  been  made  for  clerical 
education.  Many  of  the  religious  sects,  however,  have 
established  theological  academies,  in  which  candidates  for 
the  ministry  may,  doubtless,  acquire  such  accomplish- 
ment as  is  deemed  necessary  jbr  the  satisfactory  discharge 
of  their  high  function.  * 

*  The  American  Almanac  for  1831  contains  a  list  of  all  the  theological 
establishments  in  the  United  States,  with  the  number  of  students  at  each 
seminary,  and  of  the  volumes  contained  in  its  library.  According  to  this 
document,  the  whole  number  of  theological  students  is  657.  The  com- 
bined aggregate  of  volumes  in  possession  of  all  the  institutions  is  43, 450. 
The  best  furnished  library  in  the  list  is  that  of  the  theological  depart- 

25 


194  OPINIONS  OF  JEFFERSON. 

In  short,  the  state  of  American  society  is  such  as  to  af- 
ford no  leisure  for  any  thing  so  unmarketable  as  abstract 
knowledge.  For  the  pursuit  of  such  studies,  it  is  neces- 
sary that  the  proficient  should  "  fit  audience  find,  though 
few."  He  must  be  able  to  calculate  on  sympathy  at 
least,  if  not  encouragement,  and  assuredly  he  would  find 
neither  in  the  United  States. 

Whatever  were  the  defects  of  Jefferson,  he  seems  to 
have  been  impressed  .with  a  deep  consciousness  of  the  de- 
ficiencies of  his  countrymen.  He  saw  that  the  elements 
of  knowledge  were  diffused  every  where,  but  that  all  its 
higher  fruits  were  wanting.  He  endeavoured,  not  only 
to  rouse  his  countrymen  to  a  sense  of  their  intellectual 
condition,  but  to  provide  the  means  by  which  it  might 
be  improved.  With  this  view  he  founded  a  university 
in  his  native  State,  and  his  last  worldly  anxieties  were 
devoted  to  its  advancement.  Jefferson  felt  strongly,  that 
while  philosophy  and  literature  were  excluded  from  the 
fair  objects  of  professional  ambition,  and  the  United 
States  continued  to  be  dependent  for  all  advances  in  know- 
ledge, on  importations  from  Europe,  she  was  wanting  in 
the  noblest  element  of  national  greatness.  Though  the 
commerce  of  mind  be  regulated  by  loftier  principles  than 
more  vulgar  traffic,  it  should  consist,  unquestionably,  of 
exchange  of  some  kind.  To  receive,  and  not  to  give,  is 
to  subsist  on  charity;  to  be  a  mute  and  changeling  in  the 
great  family  of  nations. 

The  obstacles  to  success,  however,  were  too  great  for 
the  powers  of  Jefferson  to  overcome.  In  a  community 
where  the  gradations  of  opulence  constitute  the  great  dis- 
tinction between  man  and  man,  the  pursuits  which  lead 
most  readily  to  its  attainment  will  certainly  engross  the 
whole  volume  of  national  talent.  In  England  there  are 

ment  of  Yale  College,  which  contains  8000  volumes.  None  of  the 
others  approach  nearly  to  this  amount.  The  institution  of  New  Hampton 
possesses  only  100  volumes,  and  is  attended  by  fourteen  students.  Cal- 
culating each  book  to  consist,  on  the  average,  of  three  volumes,  the 
New  Hampton  Library  contains  thirty-three  works  on  theology.  But 
this  is  not  all:  Seven  of  these  establishments  possess  no  libraries  at  all, 
so  that  the  learning  of  the  students  must  come  by  inspiration.  Until  the 
year  1808,  no  seminaries  for  religious  instruction  appear  to  have  existed 
in  the  United  States.  One  was  founded  in  that  year,  another  in  1812, 
but  the  great  majority  are  of  far  more  recent  origin. 


AMERICA  UNFAVOURABLE  TO  LITERATURE.       195 

various  coexistent  aristocracies,  which  act  as  mutual  cor- 
rectives, and,  by  multiplying  the  objects  of  ambition, 
give  amplitude  and  diffusion  to  its  efforts.  Jn  America 
there  exists  but  one,  and  the  impulse  it  awakens  is,  of 
course,  violent  in  proportion  to  its  concentration.  Jef- 
ferson, therefore,  failed  in  this  great  object,  towards  the 
accomplishment  of  which  his  anxious  thoughts  were  di- 
rected. As  a  politician,  he  exercised  a  far  greater  influ- 
ence over  the  national  mind  than  any  other  statesman  his 
country  has  produced.  But  in  his  endeavours  to  direct 
the  intellectual  impulses  of  his  countrymen  towards  lof- 
tier objects,  the  very  structure  of  society  presented  an  in- 
superable barrier  to  success. 

I  am  aware,  it  will  be  urged,  that  the  state  of  things 
I  have  described  is  merely  transient,  and  that  when  po- 
pulation shall  become  more  dense,  and  increased  compe- 
tition shall  render  commerce  and  agriculture  less  lucra- 
tive, the  pursuits  of  science  and  literature  will  engross 
their  due  portion  of  the  national  talent.  I  hope  it  may 
be  so,  but  yet  it  cannot  be  disguised,  that  there  hitherto 
has  been  no  visible  approximation  towards  such  a  condi- 
tion of  society.  In  the  present  generation  of  Americans, 
I  can  detect  no  symptom  of  improving  taste,  or  increasing 
elevation  of  intellect.  On  the  contrary,  the  fact  has  been 
irresistibly  forced  on  my  conviction,  that  they  are  alto- 
gether inferior  to  those,  whose  place,  in  the  course  of  na- 
ture, they  are  soon  destined  to  occupy.  Compared  with 
their  fathers,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  pronouncing  the 
younger  portion  of  the  richer  classes  to  be  less  liberal, 
less  enlightened,  less  observant  of  the  proprieties  of  life, 
and  certainly  far  less  pleasing  in  manner  and  deport- 
ment. 

In  England  every  new  generation  starts  forward  into 
life  with  advantages  far  superior  to  its  predecessor.  Each 
successive  crop — if  I  may  so  write — of  legislators,  is 
marked  by  increase  of  knowledge  and  enlargement  of 
thought.  The  standard  of  acquirement  necessary  to  at- 
tain distinction  in  public  life,  is  now  confessedly  higher 
than  it  was  thirty  years  ago.  The  intellectual  currency 
of  the  country,  instead  of  being  depreciated,  has  advanced 
in  value,  while  the  issue  has  been  prodigiously  enlarged. 
True,  there  are  no  giants  in  our  days,  but  this  may  be  in 


196        OBSTACLES  TO  IMPROVEMENT. 

part  at  least  accounted  for,  by  a  general  increase  of  sta- 
ture in  the  people.  We  have  gained  at  least  an  inch  upon 
our  fathers,  and  have  the  gratifying  prospect  of  appear- 
ing diminutive  when  compared  with  our  children. 

But  if  this  be  so  in  America,  I  confess  my  observation 
is  at  fault.  I  can  discern  no  prospect  of  her  soon  be- 
coming a  mental  benefactor  to  the  world.  Elementary 
instruction,  it  is  true,  has  generally  kept  pace  with  the 
rapid  progress  of  population;  but  while  the  steps  of  youth 
are  studiously  directed  to  the  base  of  the  mountain  of 
knowledge,  no  facilities  have  been  provided  for  scaling 
its  summit.  There  is  at  this  moment  nothing  in  the  United 
States  worthy  of  the  name  of  a  library.  Not  only  is  there 
an  entire  absence  of  learning,  in  the  higher  sense  of  the 
term,  but  an  absolute  want  of  the  material  from  which 
alone  learning  can  be  extracted.  At  present  an  Ameri- 
can might  study  every  book  within  the  limits  of  the 
Union,  and  still  be  regarded  in  many  parts  of  Europe — 
especially  in  Germany — as  a  man  comparatively  ignorant. 
And  why  does  a  great  nation  thus  voluntarily  continue  in 
a  state  of  intellectual  destitution  so  anomalous  and  humi- 
liating ?  There  are  libraries  to  be  sold  in  Europe.  Books 
might  be  imported  in  millions.  Is  it  poverty,  or  is  it 
ignorance  of  their  value,  that  withholds  America  from 
the  purchase  ?*  I  should  be  most  happy  to  believe  the 
former. 

In  one  point  of  view,  at  least,  the  strong — and  I  fear 
not  to  say,  the  insuperable  prejudice  again&t  the  claims 
of  primogeniture,  is  unfavourable  to  national  advance- 
ment. It  must  continue  to  prevent  any  large  accumula- 
tions of  individual  wealth,  and  the  formation  of  a  class 
which  might  afford  encouragement  to  those  branches  of 
science  and  literature,  which  cannot  be  expected  from 

*  The  value  of  books  imported  from  Europe  during  the  year  1829- 
30  for  public  institutions,  amounted  only  to  10,829  dollars!  Even  of  this 
wretched  sum,  I  am  assured  the  greater  part  was  expended  in  works 
strictly  new.  Of  the  old  treasures  of  learning,  America  seems  content 
to  remain  destitute. 

In  regard  to  science,  it  is  a  fact  scarcely  credible,  that  the  second 
maritime  power  in  the  world  does  not  at  the  present  moment  possess  a 
single  astronomical  observatory,  and  is  dependent  on  France  and  Eng- 
land for  the  calculations  of  an  ephemeris  by  which  her  ships  may  be 
enabled  in  tolerable  safety  to  navigate  the  ocean! 


PROSPECTS  IN  REGARD  TO  LITERATURE.         197 

their  very  nature  to  become  generally  popular.  Nor  is 
it  likely  that  the  impediments  to  which  I  have  alluded, 
will  be  at  all  diminished  by  the  character  of  the  govern- 
ment, on  which  I  shall  hazard  a  few  observations. 

When  we  speak  of  a  government  being  popular  or 
otherwise,  we  mean  that  it  is  more  or  less  influenced  by 
the  prevailing  currents  of  opinion  and  feeling  in  those 
subjected  to  its  action.  A  highly  popular  government, 
therefore,  can  neither  be  in  advance  of  the  average  intel- 
ligence of  a  people,  nor  can  it  lag  behind  it.  It  is,  and 
must  be,  the  mere  reflex  of  the  public  mind  in  all  its 
strength  and  weakness;  the  representative  not  only  of  its 
higher  qualities  and  virtues,  but  of  all  the  errors,  follies, 
passions,  prejudices,  and  ignorances  by  which  it  is  de- 
based. 

It  is  in  vain,  therefore,  to  expect  from  such  a  govern- 
ment any  separate  and  independent  action.  It  cannot 
react  upon,  it  is  merely  co-operative  with,  the  people.  It 
imbodies  no  self-existent  or  countervailing  influence.  It 
is  only  when  it  ceases  to  be  expressly  representative,  and 
stands  on  a  firmer  basis  than  mere  popular  favour,  that  a 
government  can  acquire  a  positive  and  determinate  cha- 
racter, and  be  recognised  as  an  influence  distinct  from 
that  of  national  opinion. 

Neither  in  the  American  legislative  or  executive,  is 
there  any  thing  of  this  latter  character  discernible.  The 
institutions  of  the  United  States  afford  the  purest  speci- 
men the  world  has  yet  seen,  of  a  representative  govern- 
ment; of  an  executive,  whose  duties  are  those  of  mere 
passive  agency;  of  a  legislative,  which  serves  but  as  the 
vocal  organ  of  the  sole  and  real  dictator,  the  people.  Into 
whatever  speculations,  therefore,  we  may  be  induced  to 
enter,  either  with  regard  to  the  present  condition  or  far- 
ther prospects  of  the  United  States,  it  would  be  mere 
folly  to  attribute  influence  of  any  kind  to  a  government, 
which,  in  truth,  is  nothing  more  than  a  mere  recipient  of 
popular  impulse. 

To  an  American  of  talent,  there  exist  no  objects  to 
stimulate  political  ambition,  save  the  higher  offices  of  the 
federal  government,  or  of  the  individual  States.  The 
latter,  indeed,  are  chiefly  valued  for  the  increased  facili- 
ties they  afford  for  the  attainment  of  the  former;  but  to 


198         EFFECT  OF  DEMOCRATIC  INSTITUTIONS 

either,  the  only  passport  is  popular  favour.  Acquire- 
ments of  any  sort,  therefore,  which  the  great  mass  of  the 
people  do  not  value,  or  are  incapable  of  appreciating,  are 
of  no  practical  advantage;  for  they  bring  with  them  nei- 
ther fame,  nor  more  substantial  reward.  But  this  is  un- 
derstating the  case.  Such  knowledge,  if  displayed  at  all, 
would  not  merely  be  a  dead  letter  in  the  qualifications  of 
a  candidate  for  political  power,  it  would  oppose  a  decided 
obstacle  to  his  success.  The  sovereign  people  in  Ame- 
rica are  given  to  be  somewhat  intolerant  of  acquirement, 
the  immediate  utility  of  which  they  cannot  appreciate, 
but  which  they  do  feel  has  imparted  something  of  mental 
superiority  to  its  possessor.  This  is  particularly  the  case 
with  regard  to  literary  accomplishment.  The  cry  of  the 
people  is  for  "equal  and  universal  education;"  and 
attainments  which  circumstances  have  placed  beyond 
their  own  reach,  they  would  willingly  discountenance 
in  others. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  with  regard  to  mere  professional 
acquirements  a  different  feeling  prevails.  The  people 
have  no  objection  to  a  clever  surgeon  or  a  learned  phy- 
sician, because  they  profit  by  their  skill.  An  ingenious 
mechanic  they  respect.  There  is  a  fair  field  for  a  che- 
mist or  engineer.  But,  in  regard  to  literature,  they  can 
discover  no  practical  benefits  of  which  it  is  productive. 
In  their  eyes,  it  is  a  mere  appanage  of  aristocracy,  and 
whatever  mental  superiority  it  is  felt  to  confer,  is  at  the 
expense  of  the  self-esteem  of  less  educated  men.  I  have 
myself  heard  in  Congress  the  imputation  of  scholarship 
bandied  about  as  a  reproach;  and  if  the  epithet  of  "  lite- 
rary gentleman  "  may  be  considered  as  malignant,  as  it 
did  sometimes  appear  to  be  gratuitous,  there  assuredly 
existed  ample  apology  for  the  indignant  feeling  it  ap- 
peared to  excite.  The  truth,  I  believe,  is,  that  in  their 
political  representatives,  the  people  demand  just  so  much 
knowledge  and  accomplishment  as  they  conceive  to  be 
practically  available  for  the  promotion  of  their  own  in- 
terests. This,  in  their  opinion,  is  enough.  More  were 
but  to  gild  refined  gold,  and  paint  the  lily;  operations 
which  could  add  nothing  to  the  value  of  the  metal,  or 
the  fragrance  of  the  flower. 

The  consequence  of  all  this  has  been,  that  the  standard 


ON  THE  MEND  OP  THE  COUNTRY.  199 

of  judgment,  in  regard  to  public  men,  is  decidedly  lower 
in  the  United  States  than  in  most  countries  of  Europe.  It 
is,  perhaps,  natural  that  the  demand  for  political  accom- 
plishment should  not  precede  its  necessity;  and  I  am  far 
from  wishing  to  assert,  that  American  statesmen  have  not 
been  hitherto  found  adequate  to  all  the  wants  of  the  com- 
monwealth. But  if  it  be  the  great  object  of  enlightened 
institutions  to  encourage  the  development  of  the  highest 
faculties;  and,  generally,  to  raise  man  in  the  scale  of  in- 
tellectual being:  if  knowledge  be  confessedly  power,  and 
freedom  from  prejudice  a  nobler  enfranchisement  than 
mere  physical  liberty,  then  I  fear  that,  in  reference  to 
this  great  and  ultimate  function,  those  of  the  United 
States  will  be  found  wanting.  I  am  far  from  arguing, 
that  science  and  literature  should  be  indebted  for  their 
promotion  to  a  system  of  direct  encouragement.  Such 
policy  is  always  dubious,  and  has  rarely  proved  success- 
ful. But  I  certainly  regard,  as  one  most  important  stan- 
dard of  excellence  in  a  government,  the  degree  in  which, 
by  its  very  constitution,  it  tends  to  call  into  action  the 
higher  powers  and  qualities  of  the  human  mind.  It  is  a 
poor  policy,  which,  in  matters  of  intellect,  looks  not  be- 
yond the  necessities  of  the  present  hour.  There  is  no 
economy  so  short-sighted,  as  that  which  would  limit  the 
expenditure  of  mind;  and  assuredly  the  condition  of  so- 
ciety cannot  be  desirable,  in  which  great  qualities  of 
every  sort  do  not  find  efficient  excitement  and  ample 
field  for  display. 

How  far  the  influences  which  have  hitherto  prevented 
the  intellectual  advancement  of  the  Americans,  may  here- 
after be  counteracted  by  others  more  favourable  to  the 
cultivation  of  learning,  I  presume  not  to  predict.  There 
is  certainly  no  deficiency  of  talent  in  the  United  States; 
no  deficiency  of  men,  stored  even  to  abundance  with 
knowledge,  practically  applicable  to  the  palpable  and 
grosser  wants  of  their  countrymen.  But  of  those  higher 
branches  of  acquirement,  which  profess  not  to  minister 
to  mere  vulgar  necessities,  nor  to  enlarge  the  sphere  of 
physical  enjoyment,  and  of  which  the  only  result  is  the 
elevation  of  the  intellect,  I  fear  it  must  be  acknowledged 
she  has  not  yet  been  taught  even  to  appreciate  the  value. 


200  AMERICAN  NAVAL  OFFICERS. 

CHAPTER  XL 

PHILADELPHIA. 

THE  United  States'  hotel,  where  I  had  taken  up  my 
abode,  was  a  favourite  resort  of  American  naval  officers. 
An  opportunity  was  thus  afforded  me  of  forming  ac- 
quaintance with  several,  to  whom  I  was  indebted  for 
many  kind  and  most  obliging  attentions.  It  must  be 
confessed,  that  these  republicans  have  carried  with  them 
their  full  share  of  "Old  Albion's  spirit  of  the  sea;"  for 
better  sailors,  in  the  best  and  highest  acceptation  of  the 
term,  I  do  not  believe  the  world  can  produce.  During 
the  course  of  my  tour,  I  had  a  good  deal  of  intercourse 
with  the  members  of  this  profession;  and  I  must  say,  that 
in  an  officer  of  the  United  States'  navy,  I  have  uniform- 
ly found,  not  only  a  well-informed  gentleman,  but  a  per- 
son on  whose  kindness  and  good  offices  to  a  stranger,  I 
might  with  confidence  rely.  They  betray  nothing  of  that 
silly  spirit  of  bluster  and  bravado,  so  prevalent  among 
other  classes  of  their  countrymen;  and  even  in  conversing 
on  the  events  of  the  late  war,  they  spoke  of  their  suc- 
cesses in  a  tone  of  modesty  which  tended  to  raise  even 
the  high  impression  I  had  already  received  of  their  gal- 
lantry. 

In  company  of  one  of  these  gentlemen,  I  visited  the 
Navy  Yard,  and  went  over  a  splendid  line-of-battle  ship, 
the  Pennsylvania.  She  is  destined  to  carry  a  hundred 
and  forty-four  guns;  and  is,  I  believe,  the  largest  ship  in 
the  world.  I  likewise  inspected  a  magnificent  frigate, 
called  the  Raritan.  Both  of  these  vessels  are  on  the 
stocks,  but  I  was  assured  that  a  couple  of  months  would 
suffice  at  any  time  to  make  them  ready  for  sea.  They 
are  completely  covered  in  from  the  weather;  and  every 
aperture  of  the  wood  is  carefully  filled  with  sea-salt  to 
prevent  decay.  Great  faith  is  placed  in  the  efficacy  of 
this  preservative. 

Messrs.  Carey  and  Lea  are  the  chief  booksellers  of 
Philadelphia,  and,  I  believe,  of  the  Union.  Their  esta- 


REPRINTS  OF  ENGLISH  WORKS.  201 

blishment  is  very  extensive,  and  they  are  evidently  men 
of  much  sagacity  and  enterprise.  The  principal  part  of 
their  business  consists  in  issuing  reprints  of  English 
works,  which  either  from  their  merit  or  their  notoriety, 
may  be  expected  to  have  a  considerable  circulation  on 
this  side  of  the  water.  Of  original  publications  the  num- 
ber is  comparatively  small;  though,  I  am  told,  of  late 
years  it  has  considerably  increased. 

The  three  great  publishing  cities  of  the  Union  are 
Boston,  New  York,  and  Philadelphia.  From  the  first 
and  last  of  these  places  I  have  seen  some  very  respecta- 
ble specimens  of  typography;  but,  in  general,  the  re- 
prints of  English  works  are  executed  in  the  coarsest 
and  most  careless  manner.  It  is  quite  a  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  books  are  cheaper  in  the  United  States  than  in 
England.  If  there  were  no  copyright,  and  the  British 
public  would  be  content  to  read  books  printed  in  the 
most  wretched  manner  on  whitey-brown  paper,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  the  English  bibliopole  would  beat 
his  American  brother  out  of  the  field.  A  proof  of  this 
is,  that  the  British  editions  of  works  of  which  the  copy- 
right has  expired,  are  quite  as  cheap,  and  much  superior 
in  execution  to  those  produced  in  this  country. 

Copyright  in  the  United  States  is  not  enjoyable  by  a 
foreigner,  though  an  American  can  hold  it  in  England. 
The  consequence  is,  that  an  English  author  derives  no 
benefit  from  the  republication  of  his  work  in  America, 
while  every  Englishman  who  purchases  the  work  of  an 
American,  is  taxed  in  order  to  put  money  into  the  pock- 
et of  the  latter.  There  is  no  reciprocity  in  this;  and  it 
is  really  not  easy  to  see  why  Mr.  Washington  Irving  or 
Mr.  Cooper  should  enjoy  greater  privileges  in  this  coun- 
try than  are  accorded  to  Mr.  Bulwer  or  Mr.  Theodore 
Hook  in  the  United  States.  There  is  an  old  proverb, 
"What  is  good  for  the  goose  is  good  for  the  gander," 
which  will  be  found  quite  as  applicable  to  the  policy  of 
Parliament  as  the  practice  of  the  poultry-yard.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  this  homely  apophthegm  will  not  escape  the 
notice  of  the  Government,  and  that,  by  an  act  of  signal 
justice,  (the  abolition  of  American  copyright  in  Eng- 
land,) it  will  compel  the  United  States  to  adopt  a  wiser 
and  more  liberal  system. 

26 


202  AMERICAN  BOOKS. 

All  novels,  good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  which  appear 
in  England,  seem  to  be  reprinted  in  this  country.  In- 
deed, the  American  appetite  in  this  respect  is,  apparent- 
ly, quite  as  indiscriminate  as  our  own.  A.  good  deal, 
also,  of  the  more  valuable  British  literature  issues  from 
the  Philadelphia  press,  but  in  the  most  democratic  form. 
I  have  been  sometimes  amused  at  observing  the  entire 
transmogrification  undergone  by  one  of  Mr.  Murray's 
hot-pressed  and  broad-margined  volumes  under  the  hands 
of  an  American  bookseller.  It  enters  his  shop  a  three 
guinea  quarto;  it  comes  out  a  four  and  twopenny  duo- 
decimo. The  metamorphosis  reminds  one  of  a  lord 
changing  clothes  with  a  beggar.  The  man  is  the  same, 
but  he  certainly  owes  nothing  to  the  toilet. 

The  Americans  are  as  jealous  on  the  subject  of  their 
literature  as  on  other  matters  of  national  pretension. 
The  continual  importation  of  European  books  contri- 
butes to  excite  a  consciousness  of  inferiority  which  is  by 
no  means  pleasant.  There  are  many  projects  afloat  for 
getting  rid  of  this  mental  bondage,  and  establishing  in- 
tellectual independence.  By  one  party  it  is  proposed  to 
exclude  English  works  altogether,  and  forbid  their  re- 
publication  under  a  high  penalty.  "  Americans,"  say 
the  advocates  of  this  system,  "will  never  write  books 
when  they  can  be  had  so  cheaply  from  England.  Native 
talent  is  kept  under;  it  wants  protection  against  the  com- 
petition of  foreign  genius.  Give  it  the  monopoly  of  the 
home  market;  deal  with  intellect  as  you  do  with  calico 
and  broad-cloth,  and  do  not  prematurely  force  our  li- 
terary labourers  into  a  contest  with  men  enjoying  the 
advantages  of  larger  libraries,  learning,  and  leisure."  In 
short,  what  these  gentlemen  want  is,  that  ignorance  and 
barbarism  should  be  established  by  legislative  enactment; 
a  policy  which,  till  America  has  suffered  more  than  she 
has  yet  done  from  the  inroads  of  knowledge,  will  proba- 
bly strike  a  foreigner  as  somewhat  gratuitous. 

If  the  American  legislature,  however,  has  not  done 
this,  it  has  certainly  done  what  is  something  akin  to  it. 
A  duty  of  thirty  cents,  or  about  fifteen  pence  a  pound,  is 
charged  on  all  imported  books,  which,  in  every  point  of 
view,  is  highly  injudicious.  In  the  first  place,  American 
books  require  no  protection,  because  the  expense  of  copy- 


COURTS  OF  LAW.  203 

right,  and  of  transport,  is  far  more  than  enough  to  secure 
to  native  booksellers  the  undisturbed  possession  of  their 
own  market.  When  a  book  is  of  a  character  to  lead  to 
republication  in  the  United  States,  of  course  the  only  ef- 
fect of  the  duty  is  to  force  those,  who  might  wish  better 
copies,  to  furnish  their  libraries  with  inferior  material. 
The  number  of  these,  however,  will  be  found  very  small. 
In  this  country,  when  a  book  is  once  read,  it  is  cast  aside 
and  thought  of  no  more.  In  comparatively  few  instances, 
is  it  bound  and  consigned  to  the  shelves  of  the  book- 
case; and  therefore  it  is,  that  the  purchasers  of  books  al- 
most uniformly  prefer  the  very  cheapest  form.  The  in- 
jurious effect,  however,  of  the  duty  on  imported  works, 
is  felt  with  regard  to  those  which,  although  valuable,  are 
not  of  a  character  to  repay  the  cost  of  republication.  The 
duty  in  all  such  cases  acts  not  as  a  protection — for  when 
the  book  is  not  reprinted  there  is  nothing  to  protect — 
but  as  a  tax  upon  knowledge;  or,  in  other  words,  a  pre- 
mium for  the  perpetuation  of  ignorance. 

During  my  stay  at  Philadelphia,  I  frequently  visited 
the  courts  of  law.  The  proceedings  I  happened  to  wit- 
ness were  in  nothing  remarkable,  and  I  have  already 
described  the  externals  of  an  American  Court.  It  is  not 
unusual  among  the  lower  orders  in  England,  when  any 
knotty  point  is  proposed  for  discussion,  to  say  it  would 
"  puzzle  a  Philadelphia  lawyer."  To  do  this,  however, 
it  must  be  knotty  indeed,  for  I  have  never  met  a  body  of 
men  more  distinguished  by  acuteness  and  extensive  pro- 
fessional information  than  the  members  of  the  Philadel- 
phia bar. 

In  the  American  courts  there  is  much  tacit  respect  paid 
to  English  decisions,  each  volume  of  which  is  reprinted 
in  this  country  as  soon  as  it  appears.  Indeed,  but  for 
these,  law  in  America  would  soon  become  an  inextricable 
jumble.  It  is  impossible  to  expect  much  harmony  of  de- 
cision from  twenty-four  independent  tribunals,  unless 
there  exist  some  common  land-marks  to  serve  as  guides 
to  opinion.  Even  as  it  is,  the  most  anomalous  discrepan- 
cies occur  between  the  decisions  of  the  different  State 
Courts;  but  without  a  constant  influx  of  English  authori- 
ties, the  laws  regarding  property  would  be  speedily  over- 


204  HAL-ADMINISTRATION  OF  LAW. 

cast  by  such  a  mass  of  contradictory  precedents,  as  to  be 
utterly  irrevocable  to  any  system. 

The  low  salaries  of  the  judges  constitute  matter  of 
general  complaint  among  the  members  of  the  bar,  both 
at  Philadelphia  and  New  York.  These  are  so  inade- 
quate, when  compared  with  the  income  of  a  well-em- 
ployed barrister,  that  the  State  is  deprived  of  the  advan- 
tage of  having  the  highest  legal  talent  on  the  bench. 
Men  from  the  lower  walks  of  the  profession,  therefore, 
are  generally  promoted  to  the  office,  and  for  the  sake  of 
a  wretched  saving  of  a  few  thousand  dollars,  the  public 
are  content  to  submit  their  lives  and  properties  to  the 
decision  of  men  of  inferior  intelligence  and  learning. 

In  one  respect,  I  am  told  the  very  excess  of  democra- 
cy defeats  itself:  In  some  States,  the  judges  are  so  in- 
ordinately underpaid,  that  no  lawyer  who  does  not  pos- 
sess a  considerable  private  fortune,  can  afford  to  accept 
the  office.  From  this  circumstance,  something  of  aris- 
tocratic distinction  has  become  connected  with  it,  and  a 
seat  on  the  bench  is  now  more  greedily  coveted  than  it 
would  be,  were  the  salary  more  commensurate  with  the 
duties  of  the  situation. 

All  lawyers,  with  whom  I  have  conversed,  agree,  that 
the  discrepancy  between  the  laws  of  the  different  States 
is  productive  of  much  injury.  The  statutes  of  one  State 
are  often  defeated  in  the  tribunals  of  another,  when  not 
in  accordance  with  the  tone  of  public  opinion  in  the  lat- 
ter. A  laxity  thus  arises  in  the  administration  of  muni- 
cipal law  incompatible  with  good  government.  The 
criminal  codes  are  likewise  highly  discordant,  and  from 
the  variety  of  jurisdictions,  the  probability  of  crime  be- 
ing followed  by  punishment  is  much  diminished.  When 
a  man  guilty  of  an  offence  in  one  State  escapes  into  ano- 
ther, he  can  only  be  apprehended  on  the  formal  demand 
of  the  executive  authority  of  the  State  having  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  crime.  Before  the  necessary  machinery, 
however,  can  be  set  at  work,  he  has  generally  time  and 
opportunity  for  a  second  evasion,  and  it  thus  often  hap- 
pens that  the  ends  of  justice  are  entirely  defeated. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  want  of  uniformity  in 
the  administration  of  justice,  is  injurious  both  to  public 
morals  and  private  security.  But  the  evil  is  one  natu- 


SOCIETY  IN  PHILADELPHIA. 

rally  arising  from  the  political  subdivisions  of  the  Union, 
and  for  which,  with  the  jealousy  which  prevails  of  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  federal  government,  it  is  perhaps  im- 
possible to  devise  a  remedy.  With  so  many  co-ex- 
istent and  independent  legislatures,  uniformity  of  legis- 
lation is  impossible;  and  we  can  only  hope  that  in  the 
growing  political  experience  of  American  statesmen,  the 
evil  may  be  diminished,  though  there  exist  no  prospect 
of  its  being  entirely  removed. 

Philadelphia  may  be  called  the  Bath  of  the  United 
States,  and  many  individuals  who  have  amassed  fortunes 
in  other  parts  of  the  Union,  select  it  as  the  place  of  their 
residence.  Money-getting  is  not  here  the  furious  and 
absorbing  pursuit  of  all  ranks  and  conditions  of  men. 
On  the  contrary,  every  thing  goes  on  quietly.  The  peo- 
ple seem  to  dabble  in  business,  rather  than  follow  it 
with  that  impetuous  energy  observable  in  other  cities. 
The  truth  is,  that  a  large  portion  of  the  capital  of  the 
Philadelphians  is  invested  in  New  York,  where  there  is 
ample  field  for  its  profitable  employment.  The  extent 
of  their  own  traffic  is  limited,  and,  in  this  respect,  I 
should  imagine  it  to  be  inferior  even  to  Boston.  But, 
in  point  of  opulence,  Philadelphia  is,  undoubtedly,  the 
first  city  in  the  Union.  It  is  the  great  focus  of  Ame- 
rican capital,  the  pecuniary  reservoir  which  fills  the  va- 
rious channels  of  profitable  enterprise. 

In  Philadelphia  it  is  the  fashion  to  be  scientific,  and  the 
young  ladies  occasionally  display  the  bas  bleu,  in  a  de- 
gree, which,  in  other  cities,  would  be  considered  rather 
alarming.  I  remember,  at  a  dinner  party,  being  instruct- 
ed as  to  the  component  parts  of  the  atmosphere  by  a  fair 
spinster,  who  anticipated  the  approach  of  a  period  when 
oxygen  would  supersede  champagne,  and  young  gentle- 
men and  ladies  would  hob  or  nob  in  gas.  The  vulgar  term 
drunk  would  then  give  place  to  inflated,  certainly  more 
euphonious  to  ears  polite,  and  the  coarser  stimulants, 
such  as  alcohol  and  tobacco,  in  all  their  forms  and  uses, 
be  regarded  with  contempt. 

There  is  no  American  city  in  which  the  system  of  ex- 
clusion is  so  rigidly  observed  as  in  Philadelphia.  The 
ascent  of  a  parvenu  into  the  aristocratic  circle  is  slow 
and  difficult.  There  is  a  sort  of  holy  alliance  between 


206  JOSEPH  BONAPARTE. 

its  members  to  forbid  all  unauthorized  approach.  Claims 
are  canvassed,  and  pretensions  weighed;  manners,  for- 
tune, tastes,  habits,  and  descent  undergo  a  rigid  exami- 
nation; and  from  the  temper  of  the  judges,  the  chances 
are,  that  the  final  oscillation  of  the  scale,  is  unfavourable 
to  the  reception  of  the  candidate.  I  remember  being 
present  at  a  party,  of  which  the  younger  members  ex- 
pressed a  strong  desire  to  enliven  the  dulness  of  the  city, 
by  getting  up  a  series  of  public  balls.  The  practicability 
of  this  project  became  matter  of  general  discussion,  and 
it  was  at  length  given  up,  simply  because  there  were 
many  families  confessedly  so  respectable  as  to  afford  no 
tangible  ground  for  exclusion,  and  yet  so  unfashionable 
as  to  render  their  admission  a  nuisance  of  the  first  mag- 
nitude. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  the  existence  of  this  aristo- 
cratic feeling  in  New  York,  but  it  certainly  is  there  far 
less  prevalent  than  in  Philadelphia.  This  may  easily  be 
accounted  for.  In  the  former  city,  the  vicissitudes  of 
trade,  the  growth  and  dissipation  of  opulence,  are  far 
more  rapid.  Rich  men  spring  up  like  mushrooms. 
Fortunes  are  made  and  lost  by  a  single  speculation.  A 
man  may  go  to  bed  at  night  worth  less  than  nothing,  and 
pull  off  his  nightcap  in  the  morning  with  some  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  waiting  his  acceptance.  There  is 
comparatively  no  settled  and  permanent  body  of  leading 
capitalists,  and,  consequently,  less  room  for  that  sort  of 
defensive  league  which  naturally  takes  place  among  men 
of  common  interests  and  position  in  society. 

In  Philadelphia,  on  the  other  hand,  the  pursuits  of 
commerce  are  confined  within  narrower  limits.  There 
is  no  field  for  speculation  on  a  great  scale,  and  the  regu- 
lar trade  of  the  place  is  engrossed  by  old-established 
houses,  which  enjoy  a  sort  of  prescriptive  confidence, 
against  which,  younger  establishments,  however  respec- 
table, find  it  in  vain  to  contend.  The  keener,  and  more 
enterprising  traders,  therefore,  generally  remove  to  New 
York,  and  Philadelphia  continues  comparatively  untrou- 
bled by  those  fluctuations  of  wealth,  which  impede  any 
permanent  and  effective  union  among  its  aristocracy. 

In  society  in  Philadelphia,  I  had  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  the  Count  de  Survilliers,  better  known  by  the  un- 


JOSEPH  BONAPARTE.  2Q7 

tilled  name  of  Joseph  Bonaparte.  This  person  has  pur- 
chased an  estate  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  by  his  sim- 
plicity and  benevolence  of  character,  has  succeeded  in 
winning  golden  opinions  from  all  classes  of  Americans. 
He  often  visits  Philadelphia,  and  mingles  a  good  deal  in 
the  society  of  the  place.  In  the  party  where  I  first  met 
him,  a  considerable  time  elapsed  before  I  was  aware  of 
the  presence  of  a  person  so  remarkable.  He  was  at 
length  pointed  out  to  my  observation,  with  an  offer  of 
introduction,  which  I  thought  proper  to  decline;  being 
aware,  that  in  a  work  with  which  he  was  probably  unac- 
quainted, I  had  spoken  of  him  in  a  manner,  which,  whe- 
ther just  or  otherwise,  made  it  indelicate  that  I  should 
be  obtruded  on  his  notice. 

Joseph  Bonaparte,  in  person,  is  about  the  middle 
height,  but  round  and  corpulent.  In  the  form  of  his 
head  and  features  there  certainly  exists  a  resemblance 
to  Napoleon,  but  in  the  expression  of  the  countenance 
there  is  none.  I  remember,  at  the  Pergola  Theatre  of 
Florence,  discovering  Louis  Bonaparte  from  his  likeness 
to  the  Emperor,  which  is  very  striking,  but  I  am  by  no 
means  confident  that  I  should  have  been  equally  success- 
ful with  Joseph.  There  is  nothing  about  him  indicative 
of  high  intellect.  His  eye  is  dull  and  heavy;  his  man- 
ner ungraceful  and  deficient  in  that  ease  and  dignity 
which  we  vulgar  people  are  apt  to  number  among  the 
necessary  attributes  of  majesty.  But  Joseph  was  not 
bred  to  kingcraft,  and  seems  to  have  been  forced  into  it 
rather  as  a  sort  of  political  stop  gap,  than  from  any  par- 
ticular aptitude  or  inclination  for  the  duties  of  sovereign- 
ty. I  am  told  he  converses  without  any  appearance  of 
reserve  on  the  circumstances  of  his  short  and  troubled 
reign — if  reign,  indeed,  it  can  be  called — in  Spain.  He 
attributes  more  than  half  his  misfortunes,  to  the  jealou- 
sies and  intrigues  of  the  unruly  marshals,  over  whom  he 
could  exercise  no  authority.  He  admits  the  full  extent 
of  his  unpopularity,  but  claims  credit  for  a  sincere  desire 
to  benefit  the  people. 

One  circumstance  connected  with  his  deportment  I 
particularly  remember.  The  apartment  was  warm,  and 
the  ex-king  evidently  felt  it  so,  for  taking  out  his  pocket 
handkerchief,  he  deliberately  mopped  his  bald  "  dis- 


208  JOSEPH  BONAPARTE. 

crowned  head,"  with  a  hand  which  one  would  certainly 
have  guessed  to  have  had  more  connexion  with  a  spit 
than  a  sceptre. 

I  remained  a  fortnight  waiting  for  a  change  of  wea- 
ther, but  it  never  came.  The  roads,  however,  had  be- 
come quite  practicable  for  travelling,  and  I,  at  length, 
determined  on  departure.  At  five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, I  accordingly  drove  to  Market  Street,  where  I  took 
possession  of  a  place  in  a  sleigh  shaped  like  an  omnibus, 
which  contained  accommodation  for  about  as  many  pas- 
sengers. The  snow  lay  deep  on  the  ground,  and  the 
weather  was  cold  in  the  extreme.  After  some  delay  the 
vehicle  got  into  motion,  and  when  we  reached  the 
Schuylkill,  which  is  crossed  by  a  wooden  bridge  of  cu- 
rious mechanism,  I  looked  back  on  the  Quaker  city,  yet 
glimmering  in  the  distance,  and  hade  farewell  to  it  for 
ever. 


JOURNEY  TO  BALTIMORE  AND  WASHINGTON.     209 


CHAPTER  XII. 


JOURNEY BALTIMORE WASHINGTON. 

THE  mail  sleigh  in  which  I  found  myself  a  passenger, 
was  one  of  the  most  wretched  vehicles  imaginable.  The 
wind — a  north-wester — penetrated  the  curtains  of  the 
machine,  at  a  thousand  crevices,  and  charged  with  par- 
ticles of  snow  so  fine  as  to  be  almost  impalpable,  com- 
municated to  the  faces  of  the  passengers  the  sensation  of 
suffering  under  a  hurricane  of  needles.  Our  route  lay 
through  a  country  flat  and  uninteresting,  which  presented 
no  object  to  arrest  the  attention  of  a  traveller.  We 
breakfasted  at  a  wretched  cabaret,  and  the  pretensions 
of  the  dinner  house  were  not  much  greater.  The  fare, 
however,  though  coarse,  was  abundant;  and  proceed- 
ing on  our  journey  about  six  o'clock,  we  reached  Lan^ 
caster,  a  town  of  some  note,  and  famous  for  its  manu- 
facture of  rifles.  After  an  hour's  halt,  we  again  start- 
ed in  a  sort  of  covered  sledge-wagon,  and  the  number  of 
passengers  being  reduced  to  myself,  my  servant,  and  a 
Hungarian  pedlar,  we  without  ceremony  ensconced  our- 
selves among  the  straw  in  the  bottom  of  the  cart. 

This  part  of  the  journey  was  comparatively  comforta^ 
ble.  I  had  passed  the  night  before  leaving  Philadel- 
phia in  writing,  and  "tired  nature's  kind  restorer"  now 
visited  my  eyelids  very  pleasantly.  The  rumbling  of 
the  wagon  on  the  vast  wooden  bridge  which  crosses  the 
Susquehanna  at  length  broke  my  slumber.  I  rose  to 
gaze  on  the  scenery,  which  showed  finely  in  the  moon- 
light. There  were  rocks,  and  giant  trees,  and  a  frozen 
river,  and  the  thought  of  Wyoming  lent  a  charm  to 
them  all.  In  a  few  minutes,  however,  the  Susquehanna 
was  no  longer  visible,  and  resuming  my  former  position, 
I  again  became  as  happy  as  an  oblivion  of  all  earthly 
cares  could  make  me. 

How  long  I  enjoyed  this  happiness  I  know  not,  but  it 
was  at  length  effectually  dissipated  by  a  most  unpleasant 

27 


210  MODE  OF  LIVING. 

disturbance.  The  wagon  had  stopped,  and  the  rascal  ol 
a  pedlar,  in  scrambling  out  of  the  machine,  chose  to 
plant  his  great  hob-nailed  foot  on  the  pit  of  my  stomach. 
My  first  confused  impression  was  that  I  had  been  crushed 
to  death  by  the  wheel  of  the  Newcastle  wagon,  or  the 
great  elephant  in  Exeter  'Change.  But,  by  degrees,  the 
truth  dawned  on  my  bewildered  intellect,  and  though 
not,  I  trust,  much  given  to  swearing,  I  confess  I  did  in- 
dulge in  a  profane  objurgation  at  finding  myself  thus 
unceremoniously  converted  into  the  footstool  of  a  Mag- 
yar pedlar. 

Even  to  my  own  perceptions  at  the  moment,  however, 
there  was  something  laughable  in  the  whole  affair.  To 
be  stretched  alongside  of  my  servant  in  straw  on  the 
bottom  of  a  cart,  and  in  such  a  pickle  to  be  trampled  on 
by  a  common  hawker  of  thimbles  and  pocket  handker- 
chiefs! But  travelling  in  America  is  like  misery,  for  it 
occasionally  brings  a  man  acquainted  with  strange  bed- 
fellows. 

I  had  already  found,  that  in  travelling,  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  adhere  to  those  conventional  regulations  in  regard 
to  servants  which  in  England  are  held  to  be  inviolable. 
It  is  the  invariable  custom  in  this  country  for  all  the  pas- 
sengers of  a  stage-coach  to  eat  at  the  same  table,  and  the 
time  allowed  for  meals  is  so  short,  that  unless  John  dines 
with  his  master,  the  chances  are  that  he  goes  without 
dinner  altogether.  I  had  already  learned  that  in  the 
United  States  no  man  can  put  forward  pretensions  to  su- 
periority of  any  kind,  without  exciting  unpleasant  ob- 
servation. A  traveller,  to  get  on  comfortably,  must 
take  things  as  he  finds  them,  assume  nothing,  and  get  rid 
as  soon  as  possible  of  all  superfluous  refinement.  He 
must  often  associate  with  men,  whose  companionship  he 
cannot  but  feel  carries  with  it  something  of  degradation. 
Yet  a  person  of  true  breeding  will  rarely  be  treated  with 
disrespect.  He  will  receive  tribute  without  exacting  it, 
and  even  in  this  democratic  country,  may  safely  leave  it 
"  to  men's  opinion,  to  tell  the  world  he  is  a  gentleman." 

The  day's  journey  terminated  at  York,  where,  after 
all  its  annoyances  and  fatigues,  I  found  efficacious  resto- 
ratives in  an  excellent  supper  and  comfortable  bed.  In 


AMERICAN  SLEIGH.  21 1 

America,  a  traveller's  sufferings  are  rarely  connected 
with  the  table.  Go  where  he  may,  he  always  finds 
abundance  of  good  and  wholesome  food.  To  be  sure, 
if  the  devil  send  cooks  to  any  part  of  the  world,  it  is  to 
the  United  States,  for  in  that  country  it  is  a  rare  thing 
to  meet  any  dish  dressed  just  as  it  ought  to  be.  No  at- 
tention is  paid  to  th,e  preserving  of  meat,  which  is  ge- 
nerally transferred  direct  from  the  shambles  to  the  spit. 
Then  the  national  propensity  for  grease  is  inordinate. 
It  enters  largely  into  the  composition  of  every  dish, 
and  constitutes  the  sole  ingredient  of  many.  The  very 
bread  is,  generally,  not  only  impregnated  with  some 
unctuous  substance,  but  when  sent  up  to  the  breakfast 
table,  is  seen  to  float  in  a  menstruum  of  oleaginous  mat- 
ter. But,  with  all  this,  a  traveller — not  a  "very  parti- 
cular gentleman" — will  have  very  little  cause  of  com- 
plaint. At  dinner,  he  will  always  find  ham,  turkey, 
and  a  joint  of  some  kind;  and  if,  with  such  materials,  he 
cannot  contrive  to  make  a  tolerable  meal,  it  is  pretty 
evident  that  he  has  mistaken  his  vocation,  and  should  li- 
mit his  journeys  to  an  annual  migration  between  Pail- 
Mall  and  the  Palais  Royal. 

In  the  morning  we  left  York.  Inured,  as  I  had  been, 
on  the  present  journey,  to  what  appeared  the  most 
wretched  vehicles  on  earth,  I  soon  discovered  in  the  one 
in  which  1  now  embarked,  an  illustration  of  the  adage, 
that  in  every  depth  there  is  a  deeper  still.  Our  sleigh 
was  a  machine  apparently  got  up  for  the  nonce,  and  con- 
sisted merely  of  rough  boards  nailed  together  in  the  form 
of  an  oblong  box,  with  a  drapery  and  roof  of  common 
calico.  There  were  narrow  cross  boards  for  seats,  on 
which  the  passengers — six  in  number — were  compelled 
to  sit  bolt  upright  without  support  of  any  kind.  This 
was  not  comfortable,  but  the  snow  was  smooth  and  firm, 
and  we  rattled  on  very  fast  and  very  smoothly,  and  soon 
after  night-fall,  I  found  myself  in  Baltimore. 

Before  leaving  Philadelphia,  I  had  written  to  a  fellow- 
passenger  to  secure  apartments  for  me  in  the  Indian 
Queen,  and,  on  my  arrival,  found  every  thing  prepared. 
On  the  whole,  I  was,  perhaps,  more  comfortable  in  this 
hotel  than  in  any  other  during  the  whole  course  of  my 


212  SLAVERY  IN  MARYLAND. 

tour.  The  culinary  arrangements  of  the  establishment 
were  excellent,  and  the  assiduity  of  an  old  negro  waiter 
in  even  anticipating  my  wants,  left  me  only  the  appre- 
hension, that,  by  excess  of  present  comfort,  I  might  be- 
some  less  patient  under  future  privations. 

I  was  now  in  a  slave  state,  and  the  knowledge  of  be- 
ing so,  brought  with  it  something  qf  excitation.  I  had 
never  even  seen  a  slave,  and  my  fancy  had  framed  a  sort 
of  abstract  impersonation  of  the  whole  class, — a  being 
of  strong  passions  and  melancholy  aspect,  crushed  by  la- 
bour, degraded  by  ignorance,  brutalized  by  the  lash;  in 
short,  a  monster,  like  that  of  Frankenstein,  human  in 
form,  but  subject  only  to  the  influences  which  affect  the 
animal  part  of  our  nature.  I  found  the  domestics  in  the 
hotel  were  all  slaves,  and  there  was  a  certain  novelty  of 
sensation,  half  pleasant  and  half  painful,  connected  with 
their  services.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  did  I  bless 
God  for  the  whiteness  of  my  skin. 

It  was  not  in  the  class  of  domestic  servants,  however, 
that  I  could  reasonably  expect  to  discover  the  marked 
peculiarities  which  my  imagination  had  pictured  as  the 
badge  of  all  the  tribe.  My  idea  of  a  slave  had  always 
been  associated  with  field  labour,  a  burning  sun,  and  the 
splendid  peculiarities  of  tropical  scenery.  In  the  hotel, 
I  saw  only  decent-looking  waiters  and  house-maids,  ob- 
servant of  all  external  proprieties  of  demeanour,  dis- 
charging their  several  duties  with  exactitude,  and  distin- 
guishable from  European  servants  by  nothing  but  co- 
lour. 

Of  the  secrets  of  the  prison-house, — of  the  modes 
adopted  to  enforce  obedience  in  those  unhappy  creatures, 
I  know  nothing  from  personal  observation,  and  certainly 
those  with  whom  I  conversed,  made  no  complaints  of 
their  condition.  My  servant,  however,  was  admitted 
rather  more  behind  the  scenes,  and  made  some  rather 
shocking  reports  of  inflictions  by  broom-sticks  and  cow- 
hides, which  it  had  been  his  fortune  to  witness.  In  re- 
gard to  one  atrocity,  I  remember  he  was  particularly  elo- 
quent. The  master  or  mistress  of  the  establishment,  for 
reasons  no  doubt  deemed  satisfactory,  judged  it  expe- 
dient to  lay  open  the  skull  of  poor  Boots  with  the  spit 


SLAVERY  IN  MARYLAND.  213 

or  poker,  and  in  corroboration  of  the  charge,  I  can  cer- 
tainly testify  having  observed  that  functionary  with  his 
dexter  organ  of  secretiveness  covered  by  a  plaster.  But 
in  gentlemen's  families,  of  course,  such  disgraceful  scenes 
do  not  occur,  being  utterly  irreconcilable  with  that  bene- 
volent intelligence,  by  which  the  citizens  of  Baltimore 
are  eminently  distinguished. 

It  is,  indeed,  highly  probable  that  Maryland  will  not 
long  continue  to  be  disgraced  by  the  existence  of  slavery 
within  its  boundaries.  The  agricultural  staples  of  the 
State  are  corn  and  tobacco,  the  climate  is  healthy  and 
temperate,  nor  is  there  any  possible  reason  why  the  sys- 
tem of  slave  labour  might  not  be  instantly  abolished. 
The  continuance  of  the  curse — and  a  curse  deeper  and 
more  deadly  never  was  inflicted  on  any  community — is 
entirely  gratuitous,  the  consequence  of  long  hdbit  and 
deep-rooted  prejudice,  rather  than  any  beneficial  result 
which  it  can  even  be  imagined  to  produce.  In  the  more 
southern  states  it  is  different.  The  climate  is  less  salu- 
brious, and  the  cultivation  of  rice  or  sugar  certainly 
could  not  be  carried  on  without  slave  labour.  The  im- 
mediate interests  of  the  proprietors,  therefore,  are  depi- 
dedly  opposed  to  emancipation.  Whenever  it  shall  take 
place,  it  is  certain  that  vast  tracts  of  country,  at  present 
highly  productive,  will  be  thrown  out  of  cultivation. 
But  in  Maryland,  and  even  in  Virginia,  such  difficulties 
do  not  occur.  There,  slave  labour  would  instantly  be 
replaced  by  that  of  freemen,  to  the  infinite  benefit  of 
the  landed  proprietors,  and  the  general  advancement  of 
morals  in  the  whole  community.  In  the  adjoining  state 
of  Pennsylvania,  the  experiment  has  been  already  tried, 
with  the  most  complete  success.  The  introduction  of 
free  labour  seemed  to  operate  like  a  charm.  A  load  was 
instantly  removed  which  had  impeded  the  natural  ener- 
gies of  the  population,  and  Pennsylvania  has  since  con- 
tinued to  advance  in  intelligence  and  prosperity,  with  a 
vigour  and  rapidity,  to  which  no  parallel  can  be  found 
among  her  slave-holding  competitors. 

Baltimore  stands  on  the  Patapsco,  a  small  river  which 
discharges  its  waters  into  the  Chesapeake.  Its  general 
aspect  very  much  resembles  that  of  Boston,  though  the 


214  BATTLE  MONUMENT. 

streets  display  somewhat  more  of  regularity  in  their  ar- 
chitecture. The  trade  of  Baltimore  is  very  considera- 
ble, yet  there  is  less  appearance  of  bustle  and  business 
than  either  in  New  York  or  Boston.  It  is,  I  believe,  the 
greatest  mart  of  flour  in  the  world,  and  the  amount  of 
its  exports  of  this  article  considerably  exceeds  those  of  any 
other  city  of  the  Union.  The  prevalent  religion  js  the 
Roman  Catholic,  and  the  Archiepiscopal  Cathedral  is, 
perhaps,  the  chief  lion  of  the  place.  It  is  built  in  form 
of  a  cross,  with  a  dome  in  the  centre,  by  no  means  happi- 
ly proportioned  to  the  dimensions  of  the  building.  It 
contains  a  few  inferior  pictures,  some  of  which  were  pre- 
sented by  the  late  King  of  France.  The  effect  of  the 
building  is  poor,  though  the  interior  might  be  greatly 
improved  by  the  distribution  of  statues  and  altars  along 
the  walls,  to  get  rid  of  the  barrenness,  which,  at  present, 
is  scarcely  diminished  by  a  few  pilasters. 

Baltimore  has  the  honour,  I  believe,  of  being  the  first 
city  which  has  raised  an  architectural  memorial  of  its 
gratitude  to  Washington.  It  consists  of  a  column  of  white 
marble,  rising  from  a  quadrangular  base.  The  shaft  of  the 
column  is  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high,  and 
is  surmounted  by  a  colossal  statue,  which,  from  its  throne, 
seems  proudly  to  overlook  the  city.  The  design  of  this 
monument,  which  is  yet  unfinished,  is  simple  and  grand, 
and  does  honour  to  the  taste  of  the  city.  Its  gross  height, 
including  the  statue  and  pedestal,  is  about  a  hundred  and 
sixty  feet. 

In  one  of  the  squares  of  the  city,  there  is  what  is  called 
the  Battle  Monument,  a  sort  of  trophy  column,  erected 
to  commemorate  the  repulse  of  the  attack  on  the  city, 
during  the  late  war,  and  the  names  of  those  who  fell  in 
its  defence.  This  structure,  which  is  about  fifty  feet  in 
height,  consists  of  a  column  representing  the  Roman  fasces, 
symbolical  of  the  Union,  rising  from  a  square  pedestal, 
which  tapers  in  the  Egyptian  style,  with  a  griffin  at  each 
corner.  Above,  is  the  statue  of  Victory,  with  an  eagle  at 
her  side.  The  effect  of  the  whole  is  sadly  injured  by  a 
most  anomalous  complexity  of  petty  details.  Indeed,  so 
vicious  is  this  monument,  in  point  of  taste,  that  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  believe  it  the  production  of  the  same  period  which 


BEAUTY  OF  THE  WOMEN.  215 

has  adorned  the  city  with  the  noble  structure  to  Wash- 
ington. 

I  remember  being  asked  by  a  lady,  in  one  of  the  first 
visits  I  paid  in  Baltimore,  whether  I  had  seen  this  monu- 
ment. Having  answered  in  the  negative,  she  proceeded 
to  inform  me  that  it  was  very  beautiful,  but,  as  if  struck 
by  a  sudden  recollection,  somewhat  eagerly  apologized 
for  the  introduction  of  the  subject,  on  account  of  the  pain- 
ful feelings  which  this  memorial  of  failure  in  his  country's 
arms,  could  not  fail  to  excite  in  an  English  spectator.  In 
reply,  I  took  the  liberty  to  assure  her  that  her  regrets  on 
this  matter  were  entirely  gratuitous;  that  I  should  have 
great  pleasure  in  examining  the  monument,  and  really  en- 
tertained no  apprehension  of  suffering  from  any  pungency 
of  feeling  on  the  occasion.  It  was  easy  to  observe,  however, 
that  my  disclaimers,  like  the  inaugural  nolo  episcopari  of 
the  Bishops,  went  for  nothing  with  my  fair  auditor.  Her 
apologies  for  having  wounded  my  feelings,  became  even 
more  strenuous  than  before;  and  as  it  was  evidently  agree- 
able that  1  should  appear  in  the  light  of  a  mortified  man, 
I  at  length  judged  it  better  to  desist  from  farther  discla- 
mation. If  I  know  any  thing  of  John  Bull,  he  is  not  quite 
so  sensitive  a  person,  as  it  pleases  the  good  people  on  this 
side  of  the  water  to  believe  him;  and  the  idea  of  an  En- 
glishman at  the  present  day,  being  distressed  by  regret  at 
the  failure  of  the  attack  on  Baltimore,  is,  perhaps,  some- 
what closely  connected  with  the  ludicrous. 

Baltimore  is  celebrated  for  hospitality,  and  the  beauty 
of  its  women,  and  I  can  bear  testimony  to  the  justice  of 
its  reputation  for  both.  In  no  other  city  of  the  United 
States  is  the  former  so  frequent  and  habitual,  and  in  none 
are  there  so  few  of  the  sordid  characteristics  of  traffic  ap- 
parent to  a  stranger.  There  struck  me  as  being  at 
Baltimore,  more  effort  than  elsewhere,  to  combine  the 
pleasures  of  social  life  with  professional  labour.  The  ef- 
fect of  this  is  generally  felt  in  society.  The  tone  of  con- 
versation is  lighter  and  more  agreeable,  and  topics  of 
mere  commercial  interest  are  rarely  obtruded  at  the  din- 
ner table. 

In  Baltimore  there  is  not  much  pretension  of  any  sort, 
and  the  average  of  literary  accomplishment  is  perhaps  low- 


216  TRADE  OF  BALTIMORE. 

er  than  in  Philadelphia  or  Boston.  In  such  matters,  howe- 
ver, a  transient  visiter  can  form,  at  best,  but  an  uncer- 
tain and  very  fallible  judgment;  but  I  can  with  truth  as- 
sert, that  my  recollections  of  Baltimore  are  of  the  most 
agreeable  kind,  and  that  I  quitted  it  with  a  strong  senti- 
ment of  regard  for  several  of  its  inhabitants,  which  time 
has  yet  done  nothing  to  diminish. 

The  ladies  of  Baltimore,  I  have  already  intimated,  are 
remarkable  for  personal  attraction;  indeed,  I  am  not 
aware  that,  in  proportion  to  the  numbers  assembled,  I 
have  ever  seen  so  much  beauty  as  in  the  parties  of  Balti- 
more. The  figure  is,  perhaps,  deficient  in  height,  but 
sylph-like  and  graceful^  the  features  are  generally  regular 
and  delicately  modelled,  and  the  fair  Baltimoreansare  less 
remarkable  than  the  American  ladies  usually  are,  for  the 
absence  of  a  certain  fulness  and  grace  of  proportion,  to 
which,  from  its  rarity,  one  is  led  perhaps  to  attach  some- 
what too  much  value  as  an  ingredient  of  beauty. 

The  figure  of  an  American  lady,  when  past  the  first 
bloom  of  youth,  presents  an  aggregate  of  straight  lines 
and  corners  altogether  ungraceful  and  inharmonious* 
There  is  'an  overweening  proportion  of  bone,  which  occa- 
sionally protrudes  in  quarters  where  it  certainly  adds  no- 
thing to  the  general  charms  of  the  person.  The  result 
is  perhaps,  a  certain  tendency  to  scragginess,  which,  I  have 
no  doubt,  to  the  eye  of  a  young  poet  would  be  exceedingly 
annoying.  A  middle-aged  gentleman,  however,  looks  on 
such  objects  through  a  medium  more  philosophical ;  and  I 
imagine,  that,  were  it  possible  to  combine  the  scattered 
and  impalpable  elements  of  female  attraction,  and  to  form 
a  fair  estimate  of  their  amount,  the  ladies  of  the  United 
States  would  have  no  deficiency  to  lament  in  comparison 
with  other  nations. 

The  trade  of  Baltimore,  I  have  been  assured,  has, 
within  the  last  twenty  years,  been  greatly  on  the  decline. 
During  the  long  war  which  agitated  Europe,  America  en- 
joyed nearly  the  whole  carrying  trade  of  the  world. 
While  her  flag  had  only  to  brave  the  breeze,  and  not  the 
battle,  it  was  to  be  seen  waving  in  every  sea,  and  in  eve- 
ry harbour  of  the  world.  Wealth  flowed  in  on  her  from 
all  quarters,  and  like  the  lawyer  in  the  fable,  while  each 


STATE  LEGISLATURE.  317 

of  the  belligerents  received  a  shell  in  the  shape  of  victo- 
ries and  Extraordinary  Gazettes,  this  prudent  and  saga- 
cious people  contrived  to  keep  possession  of  the  oyster. 
But  the  United  States  at  length  resigned  the  innumerable 
benefits  of  neutrality.  Mr.  Madison's  proclamation  of 
war  was  the  signal  for  the  decay  of  Baltimore,  and  the 
termination  of  hostilities  in  Europe  having  left  other  na- 
tions at  liberty  to  exert  their  natural  advantages  in  the 
pursuits  of  commerce,  the  harbour  is  now  comparatively 
deserted,  and  the  quays  are  no  longer  thronged  with  a 
busy  and  bustling  crowd,  as  in  the  good  old  times,  when 
people  in  Europe  cut  each  other's  throats  because  they 
happened  to  live  on  different  sides  of  the  Pyrenees,  or 
were  divided  by  the  Rhine. 

The  worthy  citizens  of  Baltimore,  no  doubt,  deplore, 
with  great  sincerity,  the  decrease  of  pugnacity  among 
their  European  brethren.  Indeed,  I  have  heard,  since 
my  arrival  in  America,  the  toast  of  "  A  bloody  war  in  Eu- 
rope," drank  with  enthusiasm.  The  general  progress  of 
intelligence  is  unquestionably  adverse  to  the  gratification 
of  the  humane  aspirations  of  these  republican  philanthro- 
pists; but  a  still  greater  obstacle  consists  in  a  prevailing 
deficiency  of  what  is  emphatically  called  the  sinews  of 
war.  Jf  the  people  of  the  United  States,  for  the  sake  of 
getting  up  a  good  desolating  war,  which  may  tend,  eventu- 
ally, to  their  advantage,  will  only  pay  the  piper  to  set  the 
thing  fairly  a-going,  they  may,  no  doubt,  as  matters  at  pre- 
sent stand  inEurope,be  indulged  with  hostilities  to  any  pro- 
fitable amount.  A  note,  a  word,  from  Metternich  or  Tal- 
leyrand, will  do  the  business;  and  the  continent,  from  Mos- 
cow to  Madrid,  will  witness  a  repetition  of  the  same  scenes 
with  which  it  must  already  be  tolerably  familiar.  Indeed, 
without  any  such  exercise  of  liberality  on  Jonathan's  part, 
it  is  only  too  probable  that  his  wish  may,  ere  long,  be  grati- 
fied ;  and,  certainly,  if  wealth  is  to  flow  from  such  a  source, 
it  could  not  have  a  better  destination  than  the  pockets  of 
the  good  citizens  of  Baltimore,  who  would  not  fail  to  em- 
ploy it  liberally  in  acts  of  benevolence  and  hospitality. 

Being  anxious  to  witness  some  of  the  proceedings  of 
the  State  Legislatures,  it  was  my  intention  to  proceed  to 
Annapolis,  the  seat  of  government,  where  both  houses 
were  in  session.  To  this  project,  however,  I  found  my 

28 


«J18  MR.  CARROL. 

Baltimore  friends  exceedingly  adverse.  They  assured  me 
that  I  would  meet  with  nothing  at  Annapolis  to  repay  the 
trouble  of  the  journey;  that  the  inns  were  had,  the  roads 
still  worse,  and  their  representatives  very  far  from  incar- 
nations either  of  good  breeding  or  absolute  wisdom.  I 
own  that  all  this  had  rather  the  effect  of  stimulating  my 
curiosity  than  repressing  it;  and,  in  spite  of  all  obstacles, 
I  should  probably  have  visited  Annapolis,  had  I  not  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  a  friend  in  Washington,  informing 
me,  that,  unless  I  repaired  immediately  to  the  seat  of  the 
General  Government,  the  opportunity  of  observing  the 
proceedings  of  Congress,  in  the  discharge  of  its  more  in- 
teresting duties,  would  be  lost.  I,  therefore,  determined 
on  setting  out  for  Washington  without  farther  delay,  and 
bade  a  temporary  farewell  to  my  friends  in  Baltimore, 
whom  I  rejoiced  in  the  prospect  of  revisiting,  before  pro- 
ceeding in  my  route  to  the  southward. 

While  at  Baltimore,  I  enjoyed  the  honour  of  intro- 
duction to  Mr.  Carroll,  the  last  survivor  of  that  band  of 
brave  men,  who  signed  the  declaration  of  their  country's 
independence.  Mr.  Carroll  is  in  his  ninety-fifth  year,  yet 
enjoys  the  full  use  of  all  his  faculties,  and  takes  pleasure 
in  social  intercourse,  which  he  enlivens  by  a  fund  of  valua- 
ble anecdote.  It  was  with  great  interest  that  I  heard 
this  aged  patriot  speak  of  the  companions  of  his  youth, 
Jay,  Adams,  Jefferson,  and  Hamilton,  and  describe  those 
scenes  of  stormy  struggle,  in  which  he  had  himself  par- 
taken with  honourable  distinction.  Baltimore,  which  now 
contains  nearly  eighty  thousand  inhabitants,  he  remem- 
bers a  petty  fishing  hamlet,  of  some  half  dozen  houses. 
But  the  progress  of  change  throughout  the  whole  Union 
has  been  equally  rapid.  Little  more  than  half  a  centu- 
ry ago,  the  Americans  were  a  handful  of  poor  colonists, 
drivers  of  slaves  and  small  traffic,  in  lumber  and  tobacco, 
from  whom  it  was  the  policy  of  the  mother  country  to 
squeeze  all  she  could,  and  give  nothing  in  return,  which 
it  might  be  at  all  profitable  to  keep.  With  a  judicious 
economy  of  gibbets  and  jail  room  at  home,  she  was  so 
obliging  as  to  accelerate  the  natural  increase  of  popula- 
tion by  the  transmission  of  certain  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
who,  being  found  somewhat  awkwardly  deficient  in  the 
ethics  of  property  in  their  own  country,  were  despatched 


CHANGES  IN  AMERICA.  219 

to  improve  their  manners  on  the  plantations  of  Maryland 
and  Virginia.  Then,  in  her  motherly  care,  she  fenced 
in  their  trade  with  all  manner  of  restrictions,  which  could 
in  any  way  contribute  to  the  replenishing  of  her  own  pa- 
rental exchequer,  and,  to  crown  her  benefits,  condescended 
to  export  a  copious  supply  of  Lord  Johns  and  Lord 
Charleses,  to  fill  their  empty  pockets,  and  keep  the  peo- 
ple in  good  humour,  with  fine  speeches,  strong  prisons,  and 
a  round  military  force. 

All  this  Mr.  Carroll  remembers,  but  he  has  lived  to  see 
a  state  of  matters  somewhat  different.  The  colonies  have 
disappeared,  and  in  their  place  has  risen  a  powerful  con- 
federation of  free  states,  spreading  a  population  of  twelve 
millions  over  a  vast  extent  of  fertile  territory,  and  pos- 
sessing a  commerce  and  marine,  second  only  to  those  of 
that  nation  from  whom  they  boast  their  descent.  He  be- 
holds his  countrymen  as  happy  as  the  unfettered  enjoyment 
of  their  great  natural  advantages,  and  institutions  of  the 
broadest  democracy,  can  make  them.  He  sees  whole  re- 
gions, formerly  the  savage  haunts  of  the  panther  and  the 
wild  Indian,  covered  with  the  dwellings  of  civilized  and 
Christian  man.  The  mighty  rivers,  on  which  a  few 
\vretchedjlats  used  to  make  with  difficulty  an  annual  voy- 
age, he  now  sees  covered  with  steam-vessels  of  gigantic 
size,  and  loaded  with  valuable  merchandise.  He  has  seen 
lakes  in  the  very  heart  of  a  great  continent,  formerly  ap- 
proachable only  by  some  adventurous  traveller,  connected 
with  the  ocean  by  means  of  canals.  In  short,  the  lot  of 
Mr.  Carroll  has  been  cast  in  what  must  ever  be  the  most 
eventful  period  of  his  country's  history;  and  having  wit- 
nessed changes  so  vast  and  extraordinary,  and  beheld  the 
whole  of  his  early  companions,  one  by  one,  drop  into  the 
grave,  this  venerable  patriot  may  well  be  content  to  fol- 
low them,  happy  till  the  last  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  at- 
tachment of  his  family,  and  the  esteem  and  reverence  of 
his  fellow  citizens.* 

For  the  last  fortnight  the  weather  had  been  very  bad. 
Heavy  falls  of  snow  had  been  alternated  with  thaws,  and 

*  Mr.  Carroll,  since  my  return  to  England,  has  paid  the  debt  of  na- 
ture. When  the  intelligence  of  his  death  reached  Washington,  both 
houses  immediately  adjourned,  in  testimony  of  respect  for  this  "ultimus 
ttomcuwrum." 


220  JOURNEY  TO  WASHINGTON. 

considerable  difficulty  was  anticipated  in  accomplishing 
the  journey  to  Washington.  The  perils  of  travelling, 
however,  are  generally  greater  in  expectation  than  ex- 
perience, and  we  got  ever  the  distance,  forty  miles,  with 
greater  facility,  and  fewer  moving  accidents,  than  I  should 
have  been  glad  to  have  compounded  for,  before  leaving 
Baltimore.  I  was  looking  from  the  window  of  the  coach, 
in  a  sort  of  brown  study,  at  fields  covered  with  snow,  when 
one  of  my  fellow-passengers  inquired  how  I  liked  Wash- 
ington. "  I  will  tell  you  when  I  see  it,"  was  my  reply. 
*(  Why,  you  have  been  in  Washington  for  the  last  quarter 
of  an  hour,"  rejoined  my  fellow-traveller.  And  so  it  was; 
yet  nothing  could  I  discern  but  a  miserable  cottage  or 
two,  occasionally  skirting  the  road,  at  wide  intervals.  Pre- 
sently, however,  we  came  on  the  Capitol,  and  winding 
round  the  eminence  on  which  it  stands,  rattled  gaily  down 
Pennsylvania  Avenue,  the  principal  street  of  the  city. 
Houses  now  began  to  appear  at  somewhat  closer  dis- 
tances, and  every  here  and  there  was  what  is  called  in  the 
vernacular  of  the  country  "  a  block  of  building,"  or,  in 
other  words,  a  connected  range  of  shops  and  dwelling- 
houses.  The  coach  at  length  stopped  at  Gadsby's  hotel, 
where — though  with  some  difficulty — I  succeeded  in  pro- 
curing apartments. 

When  I  arrived,  it  was  little  more  than  three  o'clock, 
so,  in  order  to  pass  the  time  till  dinner,  I  sallied  forth  to 
view  the  lions.  The  Capitol  stands  on  elevated  ground, 
and  it  consists  of  a  centre  and  wings.  It  is  covered  with 
whitewash,  which  the  Americans  say  was  necessary  to 
hide  the  smoke  of  the  conflagration  in  1814.  This  is  non- 
sense. The  smoke-marks,  instead  of  injuring,  would  pro- 
bably have  improved  the  effect  of  the  building,  and  di- 
minished that  rawness  of  aspect,  which  is  so  strongly  op- 
posed to  architectural  beauty.  The  structure  is  certainly 
imposing,  both  from  situation  and  magnitude,  though  full 
of  faults.  The  greatest  is  want  of  simplicity  and  definite 
character.  The  different  parts  of  the  building  are  good, 
but  I  could  not  help  feeling  that  there  was  a  general  de- 
ficiency of  congruity  and  adaptation.  Like  a  volume  of  the 
Elegant  Extracts,  it  contains  a  great  many  fine  things, 
without  any  assignable  affinity  to  account  for  their  collo- 
cation. In  the  principal  front — the  western — the  fagade 


PICTURES  IN  THE  CAPITOL.  22 1 

is  broken,  from  the  wings  being  thrown  back.  This  is 
unfortunate,  and  the  effect  is  still  farther  injured,  by  the 
basement  of  the  centre  being  brought  too  prominently  into 
view.  The  vestibule  opens  a  large  circular  hall,  which 
occupies  the  centre  of  the  building,  and  is  lighted  by  the 
dome.  This  spacious  apartment  is  adorned  by  four  pic- 
tures by  Colonel  Trumbull,  a  gentleman  distinguished  both 
as  a  patriot  and  an  artist.  He  bore,  1  believe,  considera- 
ble part  in  the  contest  of  the  Revolution,  and  has  since 
been  employed  by  the  General  Government  to  commemo- 
rate, by  his  pencil,  those  triumphs  to  which  he  contri- 
buted with  his  sword.  The  subjects  he  has  selected,  are 
the  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  the  Declaration  of  Indepen- 
dence, the  surrender  of  Yorktown,  and  Washington's  re- 
signation of  his  command  at  the  termination  of  the  war. 
Regarding  these  pictures  merely  as  works  of  art,  it  is  im- 
possible to  compliment  Colonel  Trumbull  on  his  success. 
The  truth  is,  the  subjects  are  unmanageable.  In  the  De- 
claration of  Independence,  we  have  a  respectable  con- 
gregation of  decent  farmer-looking  men,  staring  quite  as 
vacantly,  from  under  their  periwigs,  as  the  solemnity  of 
the  occasion  could  possibly  demand.  A  few  are  seated  or 
standing  at  the  table,  which  displays  a  large  scroll  of 
parchment.  The  rest  are  seated  on  benches,  waiting  ap- 
parently with  exemplary  patience  the  completion  of  the 
important  document.  Out  of  such  materials,  Titian  him- 
self could  not  have  made  a  picture.  The  subject  admits 
of  no  action,  nor  of  strong  emotion  of  any  kind.  Then 
the  quantity  of  canvass  which  is  devoted  to  coat,  waist- 
coat and  breeches,  and  the  rows  of  clumsy  legs,  without 
one  bit  of  drapery  to  conceal  them  ! 

The  other  pictures  are  better,  though  they  too  involved 
great  difficulties  of  management.  The  artist  has  patrioti- 
cally given  to  Burgoyne  a  certain  craven  look,  which  has, 
at  least,  the  fault  of  being  common-place  in  conception. 
In  the  figure  of  Washington,  however,  Colonel  Trumbull 
has  been  very  successful.  There  is  a  calm  and  unobtru- 
sive grandeur  about  him,  which  satisfies  the  imagination. 
We  are  content  to  believe  that  the  soul  of  the  hero  ani- 
mated such  a  form  as  that  we  gaze  on  in  Colonel  Trum- 
bull's  canvass,  and  our  interest  is  heightened  by  the 
knowledge,  that  the  artist  has  given  us  a  faithful  portrait 


222  WASHINGTON. 

of  the  great  man  with  whom,  in  early  life,  he  enjoyed  the 
privilege  of  personal  intercourse. 

Having  reached  the  Rotunda,  I  inquired  the  way  to 
the  House  of  Representatives,  and  following  the  direc- 
tions I  received,  found  myself  at  the  bottom  of  a  narrow 
stair  which  led  directly  to  the  gallery  appropriated  for 
strangers.  On  ascending,  I  entered  a  splendid  semicir- 
cular saloon,  round  the  arc  of  which  is  a  range  of  ano- 
malous columns,  composed  of  breccia,  found  in  the 
neighbourhood,  with  a  highly-decorated  entablature  of 
white  marble.  In  the  centre  of  the  chord  is  the  chair 
of  the  Speaker,  from  which  radiate  seven  passages  to 
the  circumference,  and  the  desks  and  seats  of  the  mem- 
bers are  ranged  in  concentric  rows.  Behind  the  chair 
is  a  sort  of  corridor  or  gallery,  with  a  fireplace  at  either 
end,  and  furnished  with  seats  and  sofas,  which  serves  as 
a  lounging-place  for  the  members  and  strangers  to  whom 
the  Speaker  may  think  proper  to  grant  the  privilege  of 
entre. 

On  my  entrance  I  found  the  House  in  animated  de- 
bate, and  listened  with  much  interest  to  the  first  speci- 
mens of  American  eloquence  I  had  enjoyed  the  oppor- 
tunity of  hearing.  At  five  o'clock  the  House  adjourned, 
and  I  returned  to  the  hotel. 

In  the  evening  I  accompanied  a  member  of  Congress, 
whose  family  I  had  known  in  Baltimore,  to  a  ball  given 
by  a  lady  of  his  acquaintance,  to  whom  he  obligingly 
assured  me  that  my  intrusion  would  be  welcome.  On  ar- 
riving, I  found  a  very  large  party  crowded  into  a  nar- 
row compass,  the  houses  at  Washington  being  generally 
on  a  smaller  scale  than  in  the  other  cities  I  had  visited. 
During  the  evening,  I  had  to  pass  through  a  formidable 
array  of  introductions  to  distinguished  individuals,  and 
after  four  hours  of  almost  unbroken  conversation,  much 
of  which  could  not  be  carried  on  without  considerable 
expenditure  of  thought,  I  confess  I  did  feel  somewhat 
tired,  and  about  three  in  the  morning  rejoiced  to  find 
myself  stretched  in  a  comfortable  bed  at  Gadsby's. 

The  capital  of  the  Federal  Union  is  situated  on  a  point 
of  land  formed  by  the  bifurcation  of  the  Potomac,  about 
a  hundred  and  twenty  miles  from  the  sea.  Attached  to 
it  is  a  territory  ten  miles  square,  called  the  district  of 


APPEARANCE  OF  WASHINGTON.  223 

Columbia,  which,  in  order  to  secure  the  complete  inde- 
pendence of  the  general  government  is  placed  under  the 
immediate  control  of  Congress.  It  would  have  been  in- 
consistent with  the  American  character,  had  the  original 
plan  of  the  future  metropolis  not  been  framed  on  a  scale 
of  gigantic  magnitude.  A  parallelogram,  nearly  five 
miles  in  length,  and  more  than  two  in  breadth,  was  at 
once  parcelled  out  with  pleasing  regularity  into  streets, 
squares,  and  avenues,  and  preparations  were  fondly  made 
for  the  rapid  growth  of  a  city,  compared  with  which 
London  would  dwindle  into  a  village.  In  short,  nothing 
could  be  more  splendid  than  Washington  on  paper ',  and 
nothing  more  entirely  the  reverse  of  splendid  than  the 
real  city,  when,  at  wide  intervals,  a  few  paltry  houses 
were  seen  to  arise  amid  the  surrounding  forest. 

The  founders  of  Washington  imagined  it  would  be- 
come the  seat  of  a  large  foreign  commerce.  This  ex- 
pectation has  been  disappointed.  Washington  has  no 
trade  of  any  kind,  and  there  is,  at  present,  no  prospect 
of  its  ever  possessing  any.  Its  only  hopes  are  now 
founded  on  its  advantages  as  the  seat  of  government, 
which  must  secure  to  it  the  benefit  arising  from  the  ex- 
penditure of  a  large  diplomatic  body,  and  with  those 
immediately  connected  with  the  executive  government. 

Many  years  have  passed  since  the  foundation  of  Wash- 
ington, and  it  has  at  length  begun  to  assume  something 
of  the  appearance  of  a  city.  It  is  not  easy,  however,  to 
detect  in  its  present  aspect  any  thing  of  that  system  and 
regularity  so  delightful  in  the  scheme  of  its  founders. 
Instead  of  commencing  this  gigantic  undertaking  at  a 
central  point,  it  was  considered  most  judicious  to  begin 
at  the  extremities,  and  build  inward  from  the  circumfe- 
rence. The  consequence  has  been,  that  there  is,  per- 
haps, no  city  in  the  world  of  the  same  population,  in 
which  the  distances  to  be  traversed  in  the  ordinary  in- 
tercourse of  society  are  so  large.  The  most  glaring  want 
in  Washington  is  that  of  compactness  and  consistency* 
The  houses  are  scattered  in  straggling  groups,  three  in 
one  quarter,  and  half  a  dozen  in  another;  and  ever  and 
anon  our  compassion  is  excited  by  some  disconsolate 
dwelling,  the  first  and  last  born  of  a  square  or  crescent 


224  THE  REPRESENTATIVES, 

yet  in  nubibus,  suffering  like  an  ancient  maiden  in  the 
mournful  solitude  of  single  blessedness. 

There  is  nothing  sordid  in  Washington,  but  nothing, 
at  the  same  time,  which  claims  a  higher  praise  than  is 
implied  in  the  epithet  respectable.  The  chief  street  of 
the  city  is  called  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  and  extends 
from  the  Capitol  to  the  President's  house,  a  distance, 
which  I  guessed  in  walking  it  to  be  about  a  mile  and  a 
half.  Near  to  the  latter  of  these  buildings  are  the  pub- 
lic offices,  unadorned  edifices  of  brick,  with  nothing 
about  them  which  it  would  be  very  easy  to  censure  or 
admire.  In  this  quarter,  also,  are  the  houses  of  the  fo- 
reign ministers,  and  generally  of  the  members  of  the 
Cabinet,  so  that  its  claims  to  being  the  Court  end  i&  here 
undeniable. 

On  the  morning  after  my  arrival,  having  despatched 
my  letters,  I  returned  to  the  Capitol,  where  I  passed 
the  morning  very  agreeably  in  the  Senate  and  the  House 
of  Representatives.  The  Speaker  of  the  latter,  and  the 
Vice-President  of  the  United  States,  who  presides  in  the 
former, — to  both  of  whom  I  had  the  honour  to  be  the 
bearer  of  introductions, — were  obliging  enough  to  grant 
me  the  privilege  of  entre  to  the  body  of  the  house;  so 
that  during  my  stay  in  Washington  I  enjoyed  the  advan- 
tage of  being  able  to  listen  to  the  debates  without  any  of 
the  jostling  and  inconvenience  often  unavoidable  in  the 
gallery. 

I  have  already  described  the  hall  of  the  Representa- 
tives: I  would  now  say  something  of  the  members. 
Their  aspect,  as  a  body,  was  certainly  somewhat  different 
from  any  idea  I  had  formed  of  a  legislative  assembly. 
Many  were  well  dressed,  and  of  appearance  sufficiently 
senatorial  to  satisfy  the  utmost  demands  even  of  a  severer 
critic  in  such  matters  than  I  pretend  to  be.  But  a  large 
proportion  undoubtedly  struck  me  as  vulgar  and  un- 
couth, in  a  degree  which  nothing  in  my  previous  experi- 
ence had  prepared  me  to  expect.  It  is  impossible  to  look 
on  these  men  without  at  once  receiving  the  conviction, 
that  they  are  not  gentlemen  by  habit  or  education,  and 
assuredly  in  no  society  in  Europe  could  they  be  received 
as  such. 


HALL  OF  THE  SENATE.  225 

Each  member  is  furnished  with  a  desk,  and  a  consi- 
derable number  are  usually  engaged  during  the  progress  of 
public  business  in  writing  letters,  or  reading  newspapers. 
Generally  speaking,  great  decorum  prevails  in  debate. 
Neither  cheering,  nor  interruption  of  any  kind,  is  per- 
mitted, and  it  is  rare  that  any  strenuous  exercise  of  the 
Speaker's  authority  is  demanded  for  the  preservation  of 
order.  There  have  been  occasions,  however,  on  which 
the  violent  passions  excited  by  antagonism  of  opinion, 
combined  with  personal  dislike,  have  led  to  scenes,  per- 
haps, unprecedented  in  any  other  deliberative  assembly 
in  the  world.  But  the  course  of  debate,  though  often 
troubled  and  vehement,  is  rarely  violent,  and  the  moral 
sense  of  propriety  entertained  by  the  majority  of  the 
House,  is  practically  found  to  operate  as  a  sufficient  re- 
straint on  the  irritable  passions  of  individuals. 

The  hall  of  the  Senate  is  a  good  deal  smaller  than  that 
of  the  Representatives,  and  is  very  elegantly  fitted  up. 
It  is,  likewise,  in  the  form  of  a  semicircle,  with  desks 
at  convenient  distances  for  the  members  who  sit  unco- 
vered. The  President's  chair  is  in  the  centre,  and  the 
office  of  this  functionary — so  far,  at  least,  as  it  is  con- 
nected with  the  maintenance  of  order — I  should  imagine 
to  be  something  of  a  sinecure.  In  the  course  of  the 
many  debates  of  the  Senate  at  which  I  was  present 
during  my  stay  in  Washington,  I  do  not  remember  any 
instance  in  which  it  was  found  necessary  for  the  Presi- 
dent to  interpose  his  authority.  The  appearance  of  the 
assembly  is  grave  and  dignified.  The  senators  are  ge- 
nerally men  of  eminence  in  their  several  States,  who 
may  be  supposed  to  bring  to  the  task  of  legislation  the 
results  of  more  mature  judgment  and  varied  experience. 
The  tone  of  debate  is,  therefore,  pitched  higher  than  in 
the  more  popular  House.  Questions  are  discussed  in  a 
temper  more  philosophical  and  statesman-like.  The 
range  of  argument  is  widened,  that  of  invective  nar- 
rowed; and  the  members  of  the  senate  are  less  given  to 
indulge  in  those  flights  of  vapid  and  puerile  declamation, 
which  prove  nothing  but  deficiency  of  taste  and  judg- 
ment in  the  orator. 

Washington  is  undoubtedly  the  gayest  place  in  the 
29 


226  AMUSEMENTS  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Union;  and  must,  I  should  imagine,  be  the  very  paradise 
of  hackney-coachmen.*  If  these  gentlemen  do  not  get 
rich,  it  must  be  owing  to  some  culpable  extravagance, 
for  their  vehicles  are  in  continual  demand  from  the  hour 
of  dinner  till  five  in  the  morning,  and  long  distances  and 
heavy  charges  are  all  in  their  favour.  Washington,  too, 
is  the  only  place  in  the  Union  where  people  consider  it 
necessary  to  be  agreeable, — where  pleasing,  as  in  the 
Old  World,  becomes  a  sort  of  business,  and  the  enjoy- 
ments of  social  intercourse  enter  into  the  habitual  calcu- 
lations of  every  one. 

The  reason  of  this  is  obvious  enough.  The  duties  of 
legislation  bring  together  a  large  body  of  gentlemen 
from  all  quarters  of  the  Union,  whose  time  in  the  morn- 
ing is  generally  passed  in  the  Capitol;  but  who,  without 
the  delassements  of  dinner  parties  and  balls,  would  find 
their  evening  hours  a  burden  somewhat  difficult  to  dis- 
pose of.  Idle  men  are  always  pleasant;  they  feel  the  ne- 
cessity of  being  so,  and  make  it  their  occupation,  when 
they  have  no  other.  Your  lawyer,  or  your  merchant, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  so  engrossed  by  weighter  matters, 
that  he  has  no  time  to  cultivate  the  graces  of  life,  or 
those  thousand  arts  of  courtesy  which  contribute  so  ma- 
terially to  enhance  the  enjoyments  of  society.  The  ex- 
perience of  the  world  is  in  favour  of  the  assertion,  that 
it  is  impossible  to  excel  both  in  pleasure  and  business. 
A  man  of  talent  may  select  the  sphere  of  his  ambi- 
tion, the  bar,  the  pulpit,  the  exchange,  the  senate,  or  the 
drawing-room;  but  to  attempt  the  honours  of  a  double 
triumph,  is,  in  general,  to  secure  but  duplicity  of  failure. 

In  Washington,  all  are  idle  enough  to  be  as  agreeable 
as  they  can.  The  business  of  Congress  is  no  great  bur- 
den on  the  shoulders  of  any  of  its  members;  and  a  trip 
to  Washington  is  generally  regarded  as  a  sort  of  annual 
lark,  which  enables  a  man  to  pass  the  winter  months 

*  During  the  first  week  of  my  stay  in  Washington,  I  paid  thirty  dol- 
lars in  coach-hire.  I  then  contracted  with  a  man  for  twenty,  to  have  a 
carriage  at  my  disposal  from  five  in  the  evening  till  daylight.  On  the 
first  night  of  the  agreement,  however,  I  happened  to  go  to  four  par- 
ties, and  Jehu  drew  back  from  his  bargain,  and  insisted  on  five  dol- 
lars more.  I  argued  strenuously  against  this  Punica  fides,  but,  finding 
I  could  not  do  better,  was  forced  to  give  in  to  his  demand.  The  charge 
for  being  conveyed  to  and  from  a  dinner-party  alone  was  three  dollars. 


BALL  AT  THE  FRENCH  MINISTER'S.  227 

more  pleasantly  than  in  the  country.  A  considerable 
number  of  the  members  bring  their  families,  with  the 
view  of  obtaining  introduction  to  better  society  than 
they  can  hope  to  meet  elsewhere;  but  the  majority  leave 
such  incumbrances  at  home;  some,  it  may  be  presumed, 
from  taste,  and  others  from  economy. 

There  are  few  families  that  make  Washington  their 
permanent  residence,  and  the  city,  therefore,  has  rather 
the  aspect  of  a  watering-place,  than  the  metropolis  of  a 
great  nation.  The  members  of  Congress  generally  live 
together  in  small  boarding-houses,  which,  from  all  I  saw 
of  them,  are  shabby  and  uncomfortable.  Gentlemen  with 
families  take  lodgings,  or  occupy  apartments  in  a  hotel ; 
and  it  is  really  marvellous,  at  the  Washington  parties,  to 
see  how  many  people  are  contrived  to  be  stowed  away  in 
a  drawing-room,  somewhat  smaller  than  an  ordinary  sized 
pigeon  house.  On  such  occasions,  one  does  not  suffer  so 
much  from  heat  as  from  suffocation;  for  not  only  does  the 
whole  atmosphere  become  tainted  in  quality,  but  there 
seems  an  absolute  deficiency  in  quantity  for  the  pulmona- 
ry demands  of  the  company. 

Within  a  few  days  of  my  arrival,  I  enjoyed  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing,  at  one  comprehensive  view,  the  whole 
society  of  Washington.  The  French  minister,  who  had 
recently  arrived  from  Europe,  had  determined  to  open  his 
diplomatic  career  by  a  splendid  ball,  an  event  of  no  ordi- 
nary magnitude  in  a  society  like  that  of  Washington.  On 
my  arrival,  I  found  the  house,  though  a  large  one,  filled 
even  to  overflow,  by  one  of  the  motliest  crowds  in  which 
it  had  ever  been  my  fortune  to  mingle.  The  members 
of  the  foreign  legations  were,  of  course,  present;  and  the 
contrast  between  their  appearance,  and  that  of  a  consi- 
derable portion  of  the  company,  was  more  striking  than 
will  readily  be  considered  credible  in  England.  I  pre^- 
sume  the  invitation  to  members  of  Congress  had  been  in- 
discriminate, for  the  party  was  adorned  by  many  mem- 
bers of  that  body  who  would  not,  probably,  have  been 
present  on  any  principle  of  selection.  Many  of  the  gen- 
tlemen had  evidently  not  thought  it  necessary  to  make 
any  change  in  their  morning  habiliments,  and  their  boots 
certainly  displayed  no  indication  of  any  recent  intimacy 
with  Day  and  Martin.  Others  were  in  worsted  stock- 


228  PRESENTATION  TO  THE  PRESIDENT. 

ings,  and  their  garments,  made  evidently  by  some  tailor 
of  the  backwoods,  were  of  a  fashion  which,  when  dis- 
played amid  a  scene  so  brilliant,  was  somewhat  provoca- 
tive of  a  smile.  I  was  informed  that  the  gentlemen 
whose  appearance  I  have  attempted  to  describe,  were 
chiefly  members  of  the  Western  States,  and  they  might 
he  seen  parading  the  apartments  with  ladies  of  aspect 
quite  as  unique,  and  sometimes  even  more  grotesque  than 
Iheir  own. 

The  majority  of  the  company,  however,  were  unob- 
jectionable, and  the  scene  altogether  was  very  interesting 
to  a  traveller,  whose  object  was  to  see  every  thing  which 
could  at  all  illustrate  the  general  condition  of  manners 
and  society  in  the  United  States.  It  afforded  me  the  ad- 
vantage of  an  introduction  to  many  persons  of  eminence, 
with  whose  reputation  I  was  already  familiar;  and,  after 
partaking,  with  partial  success,  in  the  scramble  for  sup- 
per, I  returned  home,  satisfied  that  my  hours  had  been 
very  far  from  unprofitably  spent. 

Mr.  Vaughan,  the  British  minister,  being  indisposed, 
was  good  enough  to  request  Mr.  Van  Buren,  the  Secreta- 
ry of  State,  to  present  me  to  the  President.  The  hour 
appointed  was  two  o'clock  on  the  day  following;  and, 
having  to  deal  with  personages  of  such  importance,  I  was, 
.of  course,  punctual  in  my  attendance.  The  President's 
house  is  rather  a  handsome  building,  with  a  portico  in 
front  of  four  columns,  of  what  order  I  forget.  It  is  built 
of  stone,  but  the  walls,  like  those  of  the  Capitol,  are  coated 
with  whitewash.  The  entrance  hall  is  spacious,  and  we 
were  received  in  a  plainly  furnished  apartment,  without 
ornament  of  any  kind.  The  President  was  seated  in  an 
easy  chair,  from  which  he  arose  on  our  entrance,  and,  on 
my  name  being  announced,  very  cordially  presented  his 
hand,  and  requested  me  to  occupy  a  chair  beside  him. 
Mr.  Van  Buren  then  took  his  departure,  and  I  enjoyed 
half  an  hour's  very  pleasant  conversation  with  this  dis- 
tinguished person. 

General  Jackson  is  somewhat  above  the  middle  height, 
spare,  and  well  formed.  Though  he  has  probably  num- 
bered more  than  the  years  specified  by  the  Psalmist,  as 
forming  the  ordinary  limit  of  human  life,  no  symptom  of 
decrepitude  is  visible  in  his  air  or  motions,  His  hair, 


INDIAN  MISSION.  229 

though  nearly  white,  is  ahundant,  and  on  the  tipper  part 
of  the  head  bristles  up  somewhat  stiffly.  The  forehead  is 
neither  bold  nor  expansive,  though  by  no  means  deficient 
in  height.  The  head,  like  that  of  Sir  Walter  Seott,  is 
particularly  narrow  in  the  region  of  ideality.  The  coun- 
tenance of  General  Jackson  is  prepossessing;  the  features 
are  strongly  defined,  yet  not  coarse;  and,  even  at  his  ad- 
vanced age,  the  expression  of  his  eye  is  keen  and  vivid. 
The  manner  of  the  President  is  very  pleasing.  He  evi- 
dently feels  the  dignity  of  his  high  office,  and  supports  it; 
but  there  is  no  exaction  of  external  deference  beyond  that 
which,  in  ordinary  society,  one  gentleman  is  entitled  to 
claim  from  another.  One  sees  nothing  of  courtly  ele- 
gance, but,  on  the  other  hand,  nothing  which  the  most 
rigid  critic  could  attribute  to  coarseness  or  vulgarity. 

The  conversation  I  had  the  honour  of  holding  with  this 
distinguished  person,  related  principally  to  European  poli- 
tics. The  world  was  then  occupied  with  Poland,  her 
wrongs,  her  sufferings,  her  chances  of  success  in  the  une- 
qual contest  with  the  vast  power  of  Russia.  This  subject 
naturally  led  to  the  general  prospects  of  Europe,  the  pro- 
gress of  intelligence,  and  the  probable  duration  of  peace. 
Of  course,  these  were  matters  which  did  not  admit  of 
much  novelty  either  of  thought  or  illustration,  but  the  ob- 
servations of  General  Jackson  were  always  marked  by 
sagacity,  and  a  certain  directness,  both  of  thought  and 
expression,  for  which  European  statesmen  are  rarely  re- 
markable. On  the  whole,  I  retired  from  the  interview 
with  sentiments  of  very  sincere  respect  both  for  the  in- 
tellectual and  moral  qualities  of  the  American  President. 

In  the  hotel  there  was  a  mission  from  one  of  the  more 
distant  Indian  tribes — the  Mnemonics,  I  believe — who 
were  entertained  during  their  stay  in  Washington  at  the 
public  expense.  There  were  five  or  six  men,  not  hand- 
some, certainly,  in  the  European  sense  of  the  term,  but 
fine  athletic  weather-beaten-looking  fellows,  and  quite  as 
savage  in  appearance  as  the  most  ardent  hunter  of  the 
picturesque  could  possibly  desire.  Their  faces  and  fore- 
heads were  daubed  with  red  paint,  and  my  fair  readers 
will  probably  agree  that  rouge,  however  becoming  on  the 
cheek,  must  lose  much  of  its  efficacy  as  a  cosmetic,  when 
exhibited  on  the  forehead  and  the  nose.  The  hair, — in- 


INDIAN  CHILDREN. 

deed,  the  whole  person,  was  anointed  with  some  unctuous 
substance;  the  odour  of  which  was  far  from  agreeable. 
The  distinguishing,  and  almost  invariable  characteristics 
of  the  Incjian  countenance,  are  generally  known.  The 
head  round,  and  somewhat  flat  on  the  summit,  the  hair 
dark,  the  eye  full,  but  not  protuberant,  the  bones  of  the 
cheek  prominent,  the  nose  short,  low,  and  dilated,  the 
mouth  large,  the  lips  full  and  rarely  compressed,  and  the 
general  form  of  the  face  a  broad  oval. 

In  person,  those  composing  the  deputation  were  below 
the  middle  height,  and  certainly  owed  nothing  to  the  de- 
coration of  the  toilet.  Several  of  them  wore  only  a  blanket, 
fastened  in  front  by  a  skewer,  and  their  hair  was  stuck 
over  with  feathers.  There  were  two  ladies  attached  to 
the  mission,  neither  of  whom  were  good-looking,  being  in 
person  short  arid  squab,  and  deficient  in  that  expression 
of  grave  and  dignified  intelligence  which  distinguishes  the 
males. 

There  were  also  several  children,  and  I  desired  the 
waiter,  if  possible,  to  induce  some  of  them  to  pay  me  a 
visit.  One  evening  he  brought  in  two,  a  boy  and  a  girl. 
The  girl  seemed  about  eleven  or  twelve  years  old.  Her 
costume  consisted  of  a.  sort  of  printed  bed-gown  without 
sleeves,  fastened  close  up  to  the  throat;  trousers,  moc- 
casins or  leggins  of  deer  skin,  worn  generally  by  the  In- 
dians, and  the  whole  covered  by  a  blanket,  the  drapery 
of  which  she  really  managed  with  a  good  deal  of  grace. 
In  each  ear  she  wore  two  large  silver  ear-rings.  Fastened 
to  the  crown  of  her  head,  was  a  piece  of  blue  riband, 
which  hung  down,  not  unbecomingly,  on  one  side  of  the 
face. 

The  boy  was  apparently  younger  by  two  or  three 
years,  and  a  fine,  manly  little  fellow.  He  also  wore  a 
blanket  by  way  of  Benjamin ;  but,  instead  of  a  bed-gown, 
rejoiced  in  a  long  coat,  the  tails  of  which  reached  almost 
to  his  heels,  and  which,  being  made  for  some  one  of  form 
and  dimensions  very  different,  was  not  remarkable  for  fe- 
licity of  adaptation.  Neither  could  speak  English,  but 
the  boy  evidently  was  the  leading  person,  the  girl  only 
following  his  example. 

Having  a  bottle  of  claret  on  the  table,  I  filled  each  of 
them  a  glass,  but  the  flavour  of  the  wine  did  not  seem  to 


INDIANS  TRANSMOGRIFIED.  231 

meet  their  approbation.  They  ate  almonds  and  raisins, 
but  evidently  without  relish,  and  walnuts  had  no  better 
success.  I  then  gave  them  cigars,  which  they  appeared 
to  enjoy ;  indeed,  I  never  saw  any  one  blow  a  cloud  with 
greater  zest  than  the  young  lady.  The  failure  of  the 
claret  then  induced  me  to  try  the  effect  of  stronger  pota- 
tions, and  1  brought  a  bottle  of  Eau  de  Cologne  from  my 
dressing  table,  the  contents  of  which  they  finished  with- 
out difficulty, or  apparent  inconvenience  from  the  strength 
of  the  spirit. 

They  remained  with  me  about  half  an  hour,  during 
the  whole  of  which  time  they  supported  the  sober  gravity 
of  demeanour,  which  the  Indians  consider  to  be  insepara- 
ble from  true  dignity.  Nothing  seemed  to  excite  sur- 
prise, and  the  only  symptom  of  animation  they  displayed, 
was  on  catching  a  view  of  their  own  countenances  in  a 
mirror,  when  they  both  laughed.  During  their  whole  vi- 
sit neither  uttered  a  word,  but  when  I  gave  the  girl  a 
dollar,  explaining  to  her  by  signs  that  half  of  it  was  to  be 
given  to  her  brother,  she  readily  understood  me,  and 
nodded  her  head  in  promise  of  compliance.  At  length 
the  boy  rose  to  take  leave,  followed  by  the  young  lady, 
and,  shaking  hands  with  me,  they  strode  out  of  the  apart- 
ment with  a  sort  of  barbaric  grace  which  well  became 
these  children  of  the  wilderness. 

Before  quitting  the  subject  of  these  Indians,  whose  wild 
appearance  had  excited  in  my  imagination  a  thousand 
fantastic  associations,  I  must  mention  one  circumstance 
which  I  found  sadly  hostile  to  poetical  interest.  One 
morning,  a  few  days  before  leaving  Washington,  I  ob- 
served my  diplomatic  friends,  lounging  and  walking  about 
as  usual  in  the  gallery  of  the  hotel,  but,  alas !  how  mise- 
rably transmogrified !  Their  "  Great  Father,"  the  Pre- 
sident, had,  it  appeared,  preparatory  to  their  departure, 
presented  each  person  attached  to  the  mission  with  a  new 
coat,  in  shape  something  like  that  worn  by  a  coachman, 
and  of  blue  cloth,  turned  up  at  the  collar  and  cuffs  with 
scarlet.  The  women  wore  cloaks  of  the  same  colours  and 
materials,  and  my  two  little  friends,  whose  barbaric  ap- 
pearance had  been  so  delightful,  now  exhibited  like  the 
foot-boy  in  green  livery,  whom  liazlitt  describes  as 
having  contributed  so  much  to  the  splendours  of  Barry 


232  AMERICAN  CONSTITUTION. 

Cornwall's  tea  parties.  In  short,  instead  of  Indian  chiefs, 
I  saw  before  me  a  set  of  beings  who  reminded  one  of  the 
servants'  hall,  certainly  not  the  most  pleasing  or  genial 
region  for  the  fancy  to  wander  in.  The  poor  men,  how- 
ever, seemed  so  proud  of  their  new  finery,  and  to  do  them 
justice,  strutted  in  it  with  so  grand  an  air,  that  it  almost 
became  doubtful  whether  the  effect  of  this  anomalous 
conjunction  was  not  rather  to  ennoble  the  livery,  than  to 
degrade  brave  men  who  never  before  had  suffered  de* 
gradation. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

AMERICAN  CONSTITUTION. 

IN  the  observations  I  have  already  hazarded  on  the 
character  of  the  federal  government,  it  was  my  object 
simply  to  illustrate  the  fallacy  of  the  leading  and  funda- 
mental principles  on  which  it  is  established.  I  would  now 
willingly  be  permitted  to  direct  the  attention  of  the  read- 
er to  those  practical  defects,  arising  from  want  of  con- 
gruity  and  adaptation  in  its  separate  institutions,  which 
have  contributed  materially  to  derange  the  whole  action 
of  the  machine. 

The  colonies  had  no  sooner  achieved  their  indepen- 
dence, than  they  became  desirous  of  establishing  such  a 
union  between  the  different  States,  as  might  maintain 
tranquillity  at  home,  and  ensure  unity  in  their  relations 
to  foreign  powers.  In  1787,  a  convention,  over  which 
"Washington  presided,  was  held  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia. 
This  convention  consisted  of  delegates  from  all  the  States, 
with  the  exception  of  Rhode  Island.  After  long  delibe- 
ration, the  plan  of  government,  which  forms  the  present 
federal  constitution  was  recommended  and  submitted  for 
the  separate  consideration  of  the  different  States.  In  each 
of  these  a  convention  was  assembled,  and  in  1789,  the 
constitution,  all  the  necessary  formalities  having  been 
gone  through,  was  duly  organized  and  put  in  operation. 


THE  SENATE.  333 

The  legislative  power  conferred  by  this  constitution  is 
vested  in  Congress,  which  consists  of  two  bodies — the 
House  of  Representatives  and  the  Senate.  The  former 
of  these  is  chosen  biennially,  in  a  proportion  not  exceed- 
ing one  member  for  every  thirty  thousand  inhabitants. 
The  minimum  only  being  specified,  Congress  possesses 
the  power  of  extending  the  number  of  electors  who  are 
to  enjoy  the  privilege  of  returning  a  member.  No  per- 
son is  eligible  to  this  assembly  who  is  not  twenty-five 
years  old,  who  is  not  resident  in  the  State  in  which  he 
is  chosen,  or  who  has  not  enjoyed  the  privileges  of  citi- 
zenship for  seven  years.  No  qualification  in  property 
is  required,  and  the  right  of  suffrage  is  universal,  or 
nearly  so. 

This  system  of  representation,  though  simple  enough, 
is  connected  with  some  anomalies.  The  slave-holding 
States  enjoy  the  privilege  of  sending  more  representa- 
tives than  the  others.  The  total  number  of  white  per- 
sons, and  three-fifths  of  the  slave  population,  constitute 
the  amount  to  which  the  right  of  representation  has  been 
accorded.  Thus,  suppose  the  States  of  Ohio  and  Vir- 
ginia each  to  contain  one  million  of  white  inhabitants, 
and  the  latter  to  possess  half  a  million  of  slaves,  while 
the  former  has  none;  Virginia  will  send  representatives 
to  Congress,  on  a  population  of  1,300,000,  and,  of 
course,  will  exercise  the  greater  influence  in  the  national 
councils. 

The  Senate  is  composed  of  two  representatives  from 
each  State.  They  are  elected  by  the  State  legislatures 
for  a  term  of  six  years,  one-third  of  the  number  going 
out  by  rotation  every  second  year.  The  qualifications 
demanded  for  a  senator  are,  that  he  shall  be  thirty  years 
of  age,  a  citizen  of  nine  years'  standing,  and  an  inhabit 
tant  of  the  state  which  he  represents. 

In  addition  to  its  legislative  functions,  the  Senate  is 
recognised  as  a  branch  of  the  executive.  In  this  capa- 
city, it  is  invested  with  the  privilege  of  ratifying  or  an- 
nulling  the  official  appointments  of  the  President.  A 
treaty  with  any  foreign  power  is  not  valid  until  a  majo- 
rity of  two-thirds  of  the  Senate  shall  have  given  it  their 
sanction. 

Some  of  the  particulars  stated  in  this  brief  outline 
30 


Q34  DEFECTS  IN  THE  CONSTITUTION. 

seem  to  demand  a  few  observations.  In  the  course  of 
the  present  work,  I  have  already  had  occasion  to  express 
my  convictions  as  to  the  results  of  universal  suffrage  in 
a  country  like  the  United  States.  But  there  are  other 
minor  points  connected  with  the  election  and  constitution 
of  the  legislative  bodies,  which  appear  calculated  to  dero- 
gate very  materially  from  their  usefulness.  The  regula- 
tion, that  the  members  of  both  Houses  should  be  resident 
in  the  particular  State  in  which  they  are  elected,  I  can- 
not but  consider  as  particularly  objectionable.  In  the 
first  place,  it  narrows,  very  unnecessarily,  the  limits  of 
choice  in  the  electors.  In  the  second,  it  tends  to  pro- 
mote that  sectional  feeling,  that  exclusive  devotion  to 
the  petty  interests  of  some  particular  district,  which  is 
generally  inconsistent  with  the  adoption  of  an  enlarged 
and  statesman-like  policy.  It  places  the  representative 
in  a  state  of  absolute  dependence  on  his  immediate  con- 
stituents, and  prevents  all  appeal  to  other  bodies  of  elec- 
tors, by  whom  his  talents  and  principles  may  be  more 
justly  appreciated.  It  prevents  a  state,  in  which  there 
happens  to  be  a  dearth  of  talent,  from  availing  itself  of 
the  superfluity  in  another.  It  contributes  also,  to  feed 
and  keep  alive  those  provincial  jealousies,  which  often 
border  so  closely  on  hostility  of  feeling,  and  to  render 
more  prevalent  in  the  different  States  that  conviction  of 
incompatibility  in  their  various  interests,  which  threatens, 
at  no  distant  period,  to  cause  a  total  disruption  of  the 
Union. 

In  opposition  to  the  injurious  effects  of  this  clause  of 
the  constitution,  what  are  its  good  ones?  I  can  discover 
none.  As  a  precaution  to  secure  the  election  of  mem- 
bers sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  interests  of  the  par- 
ticular district  they  represent,  it  is  utterly  useless.  In- 
deed, a  more  gratuitous  piece  of  legislation  can  scarcely 
be  conceived.  An  American  cannot  doubt  either  the 
will  or  the  capacity  of  the  electors  to  lake  care  of  their 
own  interests,  and  to  judge  of  the  qualifications  of  the 
several  candidates  who  may  solicit  their  suffrages.  Even 
without  restriction,  it  will  rarely  occur  that  the  inhabi- 
tants of  a  particular  state  or  district  will  elect  a  stranger 
for  their  representative.  There  are  a  thousand  feelings 
arising  from  neighbourhood  and  habitual  intercourse  in 


COMPARISON  WITH  ENGLAND. 

• 

the  common  business  of  life,  which,  in  ordinary  cases, 
would  prevent  this.  A  candidate  from  a  different  State 
would  always  come  into  the  field  under  great  disadvan- 
tages. The  current  of  local  prejudice  would  be  entirely 
in  favour  of  his  opponents,  and,  if  in  spite  of  every  ob- 
stacle, he  did  succeed  in  securing  his  return,  what  would 
this  prove  but  that  he  was  manifestly  the  person  best 
qualified  to  discharge  the  duties  of  their  representative? 

In  Great  Britain,  notwithstanding  the  experience  of 
centuries,  no  such  legislative  absurdity  ever  was  contem- 
plated. A  man  from  the"  Land's  End  may  sit  for 
Caithness  or  the  Orkneys.  A  burgess  of  Berwick-upon- 
Tweed  may  be  elected  at  Cork  or  Limerick.  In  short,  a 
member,  without  once  changing  his  domicile,  often  sitS' 
in  different  Parliaments,  for  different  places;  nor  has  it 
ever  entered  the  imagination  of  any  one,  that  this  free- 
dom of  choice  has  been  productive  either  of  injury  or 
inconvenience.  Its  advantages,  however,  are  manifold. 
An  English  member  of  Parliament  is  not  necessarily  de- 
pendent on  the  judgment  of  his  immediate  constituents.- 
He  advocates  the  particular  policy  which  appears  to  him 
best  calculated  to  promote  the  interest  of  his  country, 
and,  whatever  his  opinions  may  be,  he  is  not  afraid  to 
express  them  emphatically  and  openly.  It  is  no  doubt 
possible  that  this  may  prevent  his' re-election  for  some 
borough  or  county,  but  the  whole  country  is  open  ta 
him;  he  does  not  feel  himself  to  be  meanly  subservient 
to  the  inhabitants  of  one  particular  district;  and  his  opi- 
nions must  be  strange,  indeed,  if  he  cannot  find  some 
body  of  constituents  with  whose  notions  of  policy  his 
own  are  in  accordance. 

But  in  America  all  this  is  different.  There  no  man 
can  be  elected  except  for  the  particular  district  in  which  he 
chances  to  reside.  If  his  opinions  differ  from  those  which 
happen  to  prevail  in  his  own  petty  circle,  he  is  excluded 
from  public  life  altogether.  There  is  no  alternative,  but 
that  of  giving  up  all  hope  of  political  distinction,  or  of 
speaking  and  acting  in  a  manner  basely  subservient  to 
the  prejudices  and  caprices  of  his  constituents.  Let  a 
member  of  Congress  attempt  to  follow  a  bold,  manly, 
and  independent  course,  and  he  is  instantly  sent  back 
into  private  life,  with  his  feelings  injured,  and  his  future 


236  DIVISION  OF  THE  LEGISLATURE. 

chances  of  success  materially  diminished  by  the  reputa- 
tion of  public  failure. 

The  absurdity  of  the  amount  of  representation  of  the 
different  States  being  at  all  influenced  by  the  number  of 
slaves,  is  too  gross  to  require  elaborate  exposure.  Yet, 
without  this,  the  Union  could  not  have  been  effected, 
owing  to  the  extreme  jealousy  of  the  Southern  States. 
It  is  the  fashion  in  America  to  dilate  on  the  anomalies  of 
the  British  constitution,  but  even  the  Scottish  Higland 
proprietors,  though  by  no  means  a  body  celebrated  ei- 
ther for  wisdom  or  disinterestedness,  have  not  ventured 
to  petition  that  the  black  cattle,  which,  like  slaves  in 
Virginia,  are  sent  annually  in  droves  to  the  south,  should 
be  taken  into  the  census  of  population,  with  a  view  to 
add  to  their  political  influence. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  that  the  division  of  the  legis- 
lature into  two  bodies,  acting  separately,  and  with  co-or- 
dinate powers,  is  founded  in  wisdom.  It  may  be  doubt- 
ed, however,  whether  in  times  of  excitement  the  Ame- 
rican Senate  would  practically  be  found  to  have  any 
efficient  influence  in  preventing  violent  and  hasty  le- 
gislation. Unlike  the  British  House  of  Peers,  the  Se- 
nate is  not  composed  of  members  having  a  direct  and 
personal  interest  in  maintaining  the  privileges  of  their 
branch  of  the  legislature.  They  are  men  taken  for  a 
temporary  purpose  from  the  common  walks  of  life,  to 
which,  at  the  expiration  of  their  political  service,  they 
immediately  return.  They  are  subject  to  all  the  im- 
pulses which  can  affect  the  deliberations  of  the  more  po- 
pular House.  In  no  point  of  view  do  they  present 
themselves  under  the  aspect  of  an  independent  body. 
They  are  the  creatures  of  popular  favour,  and  in  that, 
like  the  representatives,  they  live,  move,  and  have  their 
being.  The  interests,  the  habits,  the  modes  of  thought, 
of  both  bodies  are  the  same. 

It  is  in  vain,  therefore,  to  look  to  the  American  Se- 
nate as  affording  any  check  on  the  tendency  towards  de- 
mocracy, which  is  discernible  in  all  the  workings  of  the 
constitution.  It  was  the  wish  of  Hamilton,  that  the  Se- 
nators should  be  elected  for  life,  and  that  a  considerable 
qualification  of  property  should  be  attached  to  the  office. 
Had  Washington  publicly  supported  him  in  these  views, 


POWERS  OF  THE  PRESIDENT.  237 

it  is  probable  that  a  scheme  of  government,  combining 
greater  vigour  and  durability,  might  have  been  adopted. 
But  Washington,  though  bold  in  the  field,  was  timid  in 
the  cabinet.  The  opportunity  was  suffered  to  pass,  and 
from  the  period  of  the  adoption  of  the  present  constitution, 
all  hopes  of  organizing  a  government  on  a  broader  and 
more  permanent  basis,  were  for  ever  at  an  end. 

The  President  of  the  United  States  is  elected  for  four 
years.  On  entering  office,  he  takes  an  oath  to  preserve, 
protect,  and  defend  the  constitution  of  the  United  States* 
He  is  Commander-in-chief  of  the  army  and  navy,  and 
of  the  militia  of  the  different  States,  when  called  into 
actual  service  by  the  general  government.  He  has  the 
power  of  negotiating  treaties,  but  not  of  ratifying  them, 
until  sanctioned  by  a  majority  of  two-thirds  of  the  Se- 
nate. He  nominates  all  officers,  civil  and  military,  but 
the  assent  of  the  Senate  is  necessary  to  the  validity  of 
the  appointment.  He  receives  foreign  ambassadors. 
He  may  grant  pardons  and  reprieves,  except  in  cases  of 
treason  and  impeachment  Should  the  two  Houses  of 
Congress  disagree  as  to  the  period  of  adjournment,  he 
may  adjourn  them  to  such  time  as  he  may  think  proper. 
He  fills  offices  ad  interim  when  the  Senate  is  not  sit- 
ting; but,  on  their  reassembling,  that  body  may  a^fiul  the 
appointments. 

Under  the  control  of  the  President  are  three  executive 
departments,  the  heads  of  which  constitute  what  is 
called  the  Cabinet.  The  Secretary  of  State  discharges 
all  the  duties  of  the  foreign  department.  Through 
this  officer,  the  President  expresses  his  opinions  in  all 
diplomatic  intercourse.  The  other  members  of  the  Ca- 
binet, are  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  of  War,  and 
Naval  Affairs. 

Of  such  materials  is  the  American  executive  composed; 
and  it  is  impossible  to  observe  the  restrictions  with  which 
every  exercise  of  its  authority  has  been  clogged,  with-' 
out  at  once  perceiving  that  it  was  from  this  quarter  alone, 
that  danger  to  the  constitution  was  expected  to  proceed* 
The  idea  of  a  perpetual  Dictator  was  the  bugbear  which 
frightened  American  statesmen  from  their  propriety,  and 
rendered  them  indifferent  to  all  perils  which  assumed 


238         PREVALENT  DREAD  OF  THE  EXECUTIVE. 

another  and  less  alarming  aspect.  Even  at  the  present 
day,  after  forty  years'  experience  of  their  constitution, 
there  are  many  individuals,  otherwise  distinguished  for 
talent  and  good  sense,  whose  imagination  is  still  haunted 
by  ''chimeras  dire"  of  military  tyranny,  organized  by 
a  quadrennial  President,  with  a  salary  of  five  thousand 
a-year,  an  army  of  six  thousand  men,  and  without  inde- 
pendent and  unshackled  patronage  of  any  sort!  One 
might  be  content  to  smile  at  such  nonsense,  if  it  carried 
with  it  no  serious  consequences;  but  when  we  see  the  des- 
tinies of  a  great  nation  materially  affected  by  it,  we  can- 
not but  lament  the  extent  and  influence  of  the  delusion. 
In  truth,  the  manifest  and  pervading  defect  of  the  Ame- 
rican government  is  the  very  want  of  that  independent 
energy  which  her  statesmen  regard  with  so  much  futile 
apprehension.  The  President  is  a  kind  of  King  Log, 
whom  it  has  been  thought  prudent  to  deprive  of  mem- 
bers altogether,  in  order  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  his 
doing  mischief.  It  might  have  been  very  judicious,  no- 
doubt,  to  extract  the  teeth  and  pare  the  claws  of  so  fero- 
cious an  animal,  but  certainly  not  to  carry  the  mutilation 
so  far  as  to  destroy  the  whole  bodily  functions,  if  these 
could  be  rendered  useful  to  the  community. 

It  is  to  be  lamented  that  a  government  of  greater  vi- 
gour and  efficiency  was  not  originally  adopted,  since  the 
very  newness  of  political  institutions  is  of  itself  a  source 
of  weakness.  It  is  only  by  slow  degrees  that  the  intel- 
lect and  habits  of  a  people  become  accommodated  to  the 
operation  of  a  government,  that  their  prejudices  are  en- 
listed in  its  favour,  and  a  sort  of  prescriptive  respect  is 
obtained  which  adds  materially  to  the  benefit  it  is  capa- 
ble of  conferring.  Until  the  American  institutions  should 
have  gained  this  vantage-ground,  it  was  above  all  things 
desirable,  that  they  should  be  established  on  broad  and 
permanent  principles,  with  enough  of  independent  ener- 
gy to  resist  the  inroads  of  mere  wanton  innovation.  Had 
the  federal  government  been  so  framed  as  to  rest  for  sup- 
port, not  on  the  precarious  favour  of  the  multitude,  but 
on  the  deliberate  intelligence  of  the  property  and  talent 
of  the  country,  there  could  have  been  no  assignable  limit 
to  the  prosperity  and  intellectual  advancement  of  this 
fortunate  people.  At  present  it  only  contrives  to  drag 


THE  CABINET.  239 

on  a  feeble  existence,  by  adapting  its  whole  policy  to 
the  prejudices  and  passions  of  the  most  ignorant  part  of 
the  community,  which  it  is  the  bounden  duty  of  every 
government  to  restrain  and  regulate. 

Since  we  have  seen  that  both  the  legislative  bodies 
are  absolutely  and  necessarily  subservient  to  the  popular 
feeling,  it  might  have  been  expected,  at  least,  that  the 
highest  executive  office  of  the  Republic  would  have  been 
rendered  inaccessible  to  such  influence.  It  was  natural 
to  imagine  that  the  President  of  the  United  States  would 
be  placed  above  temptation  of  every  sort,  and  be  assailed 
by  no  inducement  to  swerve  from  the  policy  which  he 
might  consider  best  calculated  to  promote  the  interests 
of  his  country. 

Such  a  presumption,  however,  would  be  entirely  un- 
warranted. The  President  is  elected  for  a  period  of  four 
years,  but  the  custom  has  generally  been  to  re-elect  him 
for  a  second  term  of  equal  duration.  From  the  time  of 
his  first  inauguration,  therefore,  the  policy  of  every 
President  is  naturally  directed  to  secure  this  re-election. 
He  takes  especial  care  that  the  opinions  expressed  in 
every  State  document  bearing  his  sanction,  shall  be  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  passions  or  prejudices  of  the  numerical 
majority  of  the  people.  Being  without  the  means  of 
leading  opinion,  he  is  content  to  follow  it.  He  stands  in 
circumstances  too  precarious  to  admit  of  his  boldly 
adopting  measures  of  enlarged  and  liberal  policy,  or  at- 
tempting to  stem  the  tide  of  ignorance  and  prejudice.  In 
sb,ort,  during  his  first  period  of  office  at  least,  the  Ame- 
rican President  is  any  thing  but  independent,  and  when 
he  has  succeeded  in  extending  the  duration  of  his  power, 
he  stands  so  committed,  so  trammelled  by  pledges  of  all 
sorts,  so  identified  with  particular  opinions,  and  some 
particular  policy,  that  it  is  impossible  to  retrace  his  steps 
without  loss  both  of  consistency  and  character. 

The  appointment  of  great  officers  of  State  rests  with 
the  President,  subject  to  the  approval,  of  the  Senate;  and 
since  he  bears  the  whole  responsibility  of  the  Cabinet, 
it  seems  only  fair  that  he  should  possess  the  privilege  of 
selecting  the  individuals  of  whom  it  shall  be  composed. 
But  even  here,  independently  of  the  check  of  the  Senate, 
his  choice  is  not  practically  free,  nor  can  he  always  select 


240  ROTATION  OF  OFFICE. 

the  men  best  qualified  for  the  duties  to  be  performed. 
With  a  view  to  his  own  re-election,  the  greater  and  more 
influential  States  must  be  conciliated  by  the  advancement 
of  one  of  their  citizens  to  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet.  If  the 
Secretary  of  State  be  a  native  of  New  York,  a  citizen  of 
Pennsylvania  will  probably  be  appointed  to  the  Treasury, 
so  that  the  very  construction  of  the  Cabinet  is  materially 
influenced  by  the  dependence  of  the  President,  and  the 
consequent  necessity  he  feels  of  truckling  to  local  and 
sectional  interests,  instead  of  following  the  upright  and 
unbending  policy,  which  his  own  principles  and  judg- 
ment would  probably  have  dictated. 

All  this  is  bad,  but  leaving  it  entirely  out  of  view,  the 
mere  shortness  of  the  period  during  which  any  President 
or  any  Cabinet  can  hope  to  continue  in  office,  appears  a 
circumstance  directly  injurious  to  the  national  interests. 
It  prevents  the  adoption  of  any  permanent  and  far-sighted 
policy,  tending  progressively  to  augment  the  public 
wealth  and  prosperity.  One  man  will  not  plant,  that 
another  may  reap  the  harvest  of  his  labours;  he  will  not 
patiently  lay  the  foundation  of  a  structure,  the  plan  of 
which  is  continually  liable  to  be  changed  by  his  succes- 
sors, and  on  whom,  if  completed,  the  whole  honours  must 
ultimately  devolve.  In  short,  it  is  an  inherent  and  mon- 
strous evil,  that  American  statesmen  must  legislate  for 
the  present,  not  for  the  future;  that  they  are  forced,  by 
the  necessity  of  their  situation,  to  follow  the  policy  most 
in  accordance  with  the  immediate  prejudices  of  the  peo- 
ple, rather  than  that  which  is  calculated  to  promote  the 
highest  and  best  interests  of  the  community.  Immediate 
and  temporary  expediency  is,  and  must  be,  the  moving 
and  efficient  impulse  of  American  legislation.  The  po- 
litical institutions  of  the  United  States  are  consistent  nei- 
ther with  stability  of  purpose  in  the  legislative,  nor  vi- 
gour in  the  executive  departments.  Let  us  look  where 
we  will,  all  is  feeble  and  vascillating.  There  is  no  con- 
fidence reposed  in  public  men;  no  appeal  to  the  higher 
and  more  generous  motives  which  influence  conduct;  no 
scope  for  the  display  of  lofty  and  independent  character; 
no  principle  from  the  operation  of  which  we  can  ration- 
ally expect  any  higher  development  of  the  national  mind. 

The  exclusion  of  the  ministers  from  even  a  delibera- 


EXCLUSION  OF  MINISTERS  FROM  OFFICE.         241 

live  voice  in  either  branch  of  the  legislature,  is  another 
curious  feature  in  the  American  constitution.  It  pro- 
ceeds, no  doubt,  from  that  extreme  jealousy  of  the  exe- 
cutive to  which  I  have  alluded;  and  is  necessarily  pro- 
ductive of  much  delay  and  inconvenience.  No  commu- 
nication can  take  place  between  the  legislative  bodies  and 
the  heads  of  departments  otherwise  than  by  writing,  and 
the  consequence  is,  that  long  and  inconclusive  debates 
are  constantly  taking  place,  which  a  little  information 
from  an  official  functionary  might  have  prevented.  Un- 
der the  present  arrangement,  a  minister  of  state  never 
appears  at  all  in  the  eyes  of  the  public.  He  has.  to<  brave 
no  enemy,  and  repel  no  attack.  He  can  be  cited  before 
no  tribunal,  and  cannot  be  called  upon  to  stand  forth  and 
vindicate  his  conduct  in  the  face  of  his  country.  He  re- 
mains securely  sheltered  under  the  cloak  of  the  Presi- 
dent, on  whose  shoulders  rests  the  whole  political  re- 
sponsibility of  the  cabinet. 

It  is  somewhat  strange  that  the  American  constitution, 
which  evidently  presumes  that  every  man  in  office  is  a 
scoundrel,  should  have  removed^  in  this  instance,  one  of 
the  strongest  and  most  efficient  securities  for  public  vir- 
tue. In  England,  for  one  half  of  the  year  at  least,  minis- 
ters are  brought  into  immediate  contact  with  their  po- 
litical opponents.  They  are  compelled  to  give  public 
explanations  of  their  conduct.  They  are  kept  in  conti- 
nual remembrance  of  their  official  responsibility.  They 
are  subjected  to  a  test  which  it  requires  not  only  upright 
policy,  but  high  talent,  to  encounter  successfully.  A 
British  minister  cannot  skulk  in  Downing  Street,  when 
the  Commons  of  England  are  discussing  the  wisdom  of 
his  measures,  or  the  purity  of  his  motives^  He  stands 
forward  in  the  eye  of  the  world;  he  challenges  inquiry; 
he  meets  his  accusers  face  to  face;  he  answers  publicly  a 
public  accusation,  and  according  to  the  verdict  given  he 
stands  or  falls. 

No  man  can  believe,  I  should  iroagine>  that  such  habi- 
tual and  inexorable  scrutiny,  anticipated  by  every  public 
officer,  is  not  productive  of  the  most  beneficial  conse- 
quences. But  from  any  thing  like  this  the  high  func- 
tionaries in  the  United  States  are  scrupulously  protected. 
The  oracles  of  an  American  minister  are  issued  only  from 

31 


242  STANDING  COMMITTEES  OF  CONGRESS. 

the  shrine  of  his  bureau.  He  is  too  delicate  a  flower  for 
the  rough  handling  of  a  public  assembly,  and  of  course 
may  disregard  attack,  where  the  constitution  has  so  wise- 
ly precluded  the  possibility  of  defence. 

It  is  no  answer  to  all  this  to  say,  that  every  public  of- 
ficer in  the  United  States  is  liable  to  impeachment,  in 
case  of  individual  malversation  in  office.  No  doubt  he  is 
so;  but  violation  of  trust  in  a  minister  of  state,  so  flagrant 
as  to  warrant  impeachment,  is  an  offence  of  rare  occur- 
rence, and  one  for  which  the  disgrace  of  public  exposure 
is  generally  a  sufficient  punishment.  What  is  chiefly  to 
be  guarded  against  are  the  jobs,  the  trickeries,  the  petty 
impurities  of  office,  which  the  necessity  of  braving  per- 
sonal examination  in  a  public  assembly  would  proably 
prevent.  The  Americans,  therefore,  in  excluding  their 
executive  officers  from  all  place  in  their  representative 
bodies,  have  gratuitously  discarded  a  powerful  and  effi- 
cient security  for  the  honest  and  upright  administration 
of  their  affairs.  The  knowledge  that  every  political  mea- 
sure will  be  subjected  to  a  rigid  and  unsparing  scrutiny, 
and  must  be  defended  to  the  satisfaction  of  honourable 
men  in  open  discussion,  is,  perhaps,  the  most  powerful 
safeguard  devised  by  human  ingenuity  to  secure  the  in- 
tegrity of  public  men. 

When  we  look,  however,  somewhat  more  minutely  into 
the  details  of  this  republican  government,  it  is  soon  per- 
ceived that  the  members  of  the  cabinet  are,  in  truth,  no- 
thing better  than  superintending  clerks  in  the  depart- 
ments over  which  they  nominally  preside.  At  the  com- 
mencement of  every  Congress,  the  practice  is  to  appoint 
standing  committees,  who,  in  fact,  manage  the  whole 
business  of  the  executive  departments.  The  process  is 
as  follows: — The  President,  in  his  message,  invites  the 
attention  of  Congress  to  such  subjects  as  may  appear  of  na- 
tional importance.  Permanent  committees  are  appoint- 
ed by  both  Houses,  and  to  these  the  consideration  of  the 
various  interests  of  the  country  is  referred.  Thus,  what- 
ever relates  to  finance  falls  within  the  department  of  the 
"  committee  of  ways  and  means,"  while  that  on  foreign 
affairs  assumes  cognizance  of  every  thing  connected  with 
the  external  relations  of  the  government.  These  com- 
mittees have  separate  apartments,  in  which  the  real  busi- 


WASHINGTON.  343 

ness  of  the  country  is  carried  on,  and  from  which  the 
heads  of  the  executive  departments  are  rigidly  excluded. 
The  whole  power  of  the  government  is  thus  absolutely 
and  literally  absorbed  by  the  people;  for  no  bill,  connect- 
ed with  any  branch  of  public  affairs,  could  be  brought 
into  Congress  with  the  smallest  prospect  of  success, 
which  had  not  previously  received  the  initiative  appro- 
bation of  these  committees. 

It  should  be  remembered,  that  the  power  thus  assumed 
by  the  people  is  wholly  unknown  to  the  Constitution. 
It  is  one  of  those  important,  but  silent  encroachments, 
which  are  progressively  affecting  the  forms,  as  they  have 
long  done  the  spirit  of  the  government.  It  is  still,  how- 
ever, the  fashion  to  say,  if  not  to  believe,  that  the  Con- 
stitution remains  unchanged;  and  it  is  scarcely  worth 
while  to  argue  the  point  with  men  who  are  evidently  de- 
ficient either  in  sincerity  or  penetration.  But  if  any  man 
of  sense  and  sagacity,  who  can  be  considered  unbiassed 
by  the  prejudices  of  habit  and  education,  will  declare, 
after  a  deliberate  examination  of  the  working  of  this  go- 
vernment, that  its  whole  important  functions  are  not  prac- 
tically engrossed  by  the  House  of  representatives,  I  shall 
be  ready  to  give  up  those  opinions  which  I  now  offer  to 
the  world,  as  imbodying  the  result  of  my  own  observa- 
tions in  the  United  States. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


WASHINGTON. 

THOUGH  the  soil  of  the  United  States  may  be  considered 
ungenial  for  the  growth  of  philosophy  and  literature,  it 
would  certainly  appear  to  be  very  happily  adapted  for 
the  cultivation  of  eloquence.  It  is  one  effect  of  free  in- 
stitutions, that  in  multiplying  the  depositories  of  political 
power,  they  render  the  faculty  of  persuasion  a  necessary 
element  on  which  successful  ambition  must  rest  for  sup- 
port. Under  a  despotic  government,  there  is  "ample 


244  IMPORTANCE  OF  ELOQUENCE. 

room  and  verge  enough"  for  no  eloquence  but  that  of 
the  pulpit.  There  exists  little  community  of  sentiment 
between  the  governors  and  the  governed,  and  habits  of 
passive  obedience  are  incompatible  with  that  buoyancy 
of  thought  and  feeling  with  which  true  eloquence  is  in- 
separably connected.  But  in  a  republic  the  whole  inte- 
rests of  man,  individually  and  collectively,  become  mat- 
ter of  unrestricted  discussion,  and  afford  vantage-ground 
for  the  orator.  Earth,  air,  ocean,  and  the  living  myriads 
that  inhabit  them  and  that  wider  world  of  thought  and 
consciousness  existing  in  the  human  breast,  are  all  corn- 
prised  within  the  limits  of  his  dominion,  and  obey  the 
impulse  of  his  genius. 

In  America  the  power  of  persuasion  constitutes  the 
only  lever  of  political  advancement.  In  England,  though 
the  field  for  the  exercise  of  this  talent  be  very  great,  yet 
rank,  wealth,  family  connexions,  hereditary  claims,  and 
a  thousand  other  influences  must  be  taken  into  account, 
in  reckoning  the  ordinary  elements  of  successful  ambi- 
tion. How  powerful — whether  for  good  or  evil  I  shall 
not  inquire — many  of  these  are,  is  well  known,  but  none 
of  them  exist  in  the  United  States.  There,  rank  is  un- 
known; there  are  no  great  accumulations  of  property;  and 
competition  for  the  higher  offices  of  the  commonwealth 
has  long  been  rather  the  struggle  of  men,  or  more  pro- 
perly, perhaps,  of  sectional  interests,  than  of  principles. 
The  candidates,  however,  for  every  situation  of  emolu- 
ment, are,  beyond  all  example,  in  this  country,  nume- 
rous; and,  as  each  individual  is  naturally  anxious  to  esta- 
blish some  trifling  point  of  superiority  in  reference  to  his 
opponents,  the  consequence  is,  that  political  opinion  is 
dissected  with  a  degree  of  nicety  which  the  most  accom- 
plished metaphysician  would  find  it  difficult  to  surpass. 
But  all  enter  the  contest  armed  with  the  same  weapons, 
displaying  the  same  banner,  appealing  to  the  same  um- 
pire, and  contending  for  the  same  reward.  Patronage 
of  every  kind  is  virtually  in  the  hands  of  the  people. 
They  are  the  fountains  of  fame  and  of  honour,  the  ulti- 
mate tribunal  by  which  all  appeals  must  be  heard  and 
decided. 

In  the  United  States,  oral  eloquence,  and  the  news- 
paper press,  constitute  the  only  instruments  really  avaiJ- 


INFLUENCE  OF  AMERICAN  NEWSPAPERS.         345 

able  in  acquiring  influence  over  this  many-headed  and 
irresponsible  arbiter  of  merit  and  measures.  There  ex- 
ists, indeed,  no  other  channel  through  which  there  is 
any  possibility  of  attaining  political  distinction.  The 
influence  and  circulation  of  newspapers  is  great  beyond 
any  thing  ever  known  in  Europe.  In  truth,  nine-tenths 
of  the  population  read  nothing  else,  and  are,  conse- 
quently, mentally  inaccessible  by  any  other  avenue. 
Every  village,  nay,  almost  every  hamlet,  has  its  press, 
which  issues  second-hand  news,  and  serves  as  an  arena 
in  which  the  political  gladiators  of  the  neighbourhood 
may  exercise  their  powers  of  argument  and  abuse.  The 
conductors  of  these  journals  are  generally  shrewd  but 
\ineducated  men,  extravagant  in  praise  or  censure,  clear 
in  their  judgment  of  every  thing  connected  with  their 
own  interests,  and  exceedingly  indifferent  to  all  matters 
which  have  no  discernible  relation  to  their  own  pockets 
or  privileges. 

The  power  exercised  by  this  class  of  writers  over  the 
public  mind  is  very  great.  Books  circulate  with  diffi- 
culty in  a  thinly-peopled  country,  and  are  not  objects 
on  which  the  solitary  denizen  of  the  forest  would  be 
likely  to  expend  any  portion  of  the  produce  of  his  la- 
bour. But  newspapers  penetrate  to  every  crevice  of 
the  Union.  There  is  no  settlement  so  remote  as  to  be 
cut  off  from  this  channel  of  intercourse  with  their  fellow 
men.  It  is  thus  that  the  clamour  of  the  busy  world  is 
heard  even  in  the  wilderness,  and  the  most  remote  inva- 
der of  distant  wilds  is  kept  alive  in  his  solitude  to  the 
common  ties  of  brotherhood  and  country. 

Newspapers  have  a  character  and  influence,  distinct 
from  that  of  all  other  literature.  They  are  emphatically 
present  existences ;  the  links  between  the  past  and  the 
future.  Forming  part,  as  it  were,  of  the  very  business 
of  life,  they  are  never  alien  to  the  minds  of  those  who 
participate  in  its  interests.  They  are  read ;  laid  aside ; 
forgotten  at  night,  to  be  again  remembered  in  the  morn- 
ing. In  truth,  it  is  this  incessant  recreation  which  con- 
stitutes their  power.  The  opinions  of  men  are  yielded 
willingly  to  their  influence.  It  is  constant  dropping, 
as  the  old  proverb  hath  it,  which  wears  the  stone. 

But  the  newspaper  press  is  perhaps  better  adapted  for 


246          MODE  OF  ACQUIRING  ORAL  ELOQUENCE. 

the  advocation  and  diffusion  of  the  principles  of  a  party, 
than  for  the  attainment  of  the  immediate  objects  of  indi- 
vidual ambition.  The  influence  of  a  public  journal  can 
scarcely  be  considered  a  thing  personal  to  its  conductor. 
It  circulates  in  a  thousand  places  where  his  name  and 
existence  are  entirely  unknown.  Indeed,  to  the  great 
mass  of  his  readers  he  is  not  a  man  of  thews  and  sinews, 
broad  cloth  and  corduroys,  eating,  drinking,  spitting, 
and  tobacco-chewing  like  themselves,  but  a  sort  of  airy 
and  invisible  being,  «  a  voice,  a  mystery,"  which  it  re- 
quires an  effort  of  abstraction  to  impersonate. 

In  America,  therefore,  the  influence  of  the  pen,  though 
admitting  of  vast  extension,  is  only  secondary,  as  an  in- 
strument of  political  ambition,  to  that  of  the  tongue.  A 
writer  may  enforce  the  peculiar  tenets  of  his  party  with 
the  utmost  skill,  and  support  them  with  great  logical 
acuteness,  and  yet  be  very  scantily  endowed  with  the 
powers  of  a  debater.  Such  powers,  however,  are  indis- 
pensable, or,  at  least,  in  the  estimation  of  the  electors, 
are  practically  found  to  outweigh  every  other  accom- 
plishment. A  convincing  proof  of  this  almost  uniform 
preference  may  be  found  in  the  fact,  that  of  the  whole 
federal  legislature  nineteen-twentieths  are  lawyers,  men 
professionally  accustomed  to  public  speaking.  The  mer- 
chants— the  great  capitalists  of  New  York,  Boston,  and 
Philadelphia,  and  the  other  Atlantic  cities,  constituting, 
I  fear  not  to  say,  the  most  enlightened  body  of  citizens 
in  the  Union — are  almost  as  effectually  excluded  from 
political  power,  by  deficiency  in  oratorical  accomplish- 
ment, as  they  could  be  by  express  legal  enactment. 

The  acquisition  of  a  faculty  so  important,  therefore, 
is  necessarily  one  of  the  primary  objects  of  Transatlantic 
education.  Teachers  of  elocution,  and  of  all  the  petty 
trickeries  of  delivery,  to  which  inferior  men  find  it  ne- 
cessary to  resort,  abound  every  where.  An  American 
boy,  from  the  very  first  year  of  his  going  to  school,  is 
accustomed  to  spout.  At  college  he  makes  public  ora- 
tions. On  emerging  into  life  he  frequents  debating  soci- 
eties, numerous  every  where,  and  his  qualifications  thus 
become  known  to  the  electors,  whose  suffrages  on  some 
future  occasion  he  is  anxious  to  obtain.  He  then  com- 
mences practice  as  a  lawyer,  and  in  that  capacity  reaps 


LONG  SPEECHES  IN  CONGRESS.  347 

some  advantage  from  his  previous  notoriety.  The  road 
to  political  distinction  then  opens.  He  is  probably  elect- 
ed a  member  of  the  legislature  of  his  native  State. 
Should  he  acquit  himself  in  his  new  capacity  with  cre- 
dit, in  a  few  years  he  becomes  a  delegate  to  Congress, 
and  enters  on  a  higher  sphere  of  legislative  duty.  At 
no  period  of  his  progress,  however,  is  his  tenure  of  the 
favour  of  his  constituents  secure.  There  is  a  sectional 
jealousy  prevalent  throughout  the  United  States;  a  rest- 
less anxiety  in  the  inhabitants  of  each  district,  that  their 
local,  and  perhaps  exclusive  interests,  however  insignifi- 
cant, should  be  resolutely  obtruded  on  the  attention  of 
the  legislature.  They  consider  also  that  their  own  con- 
sequence is  intimately  affected  by  the  figure  made  by 
their  representative  in  Congress,  and  would  feel  it  to  be 
a  dereliction,  on  his  part,  of  their  just  claims,  were  he  to 
suffer  any  interesting  question  to  pass  without  engrossing 
some  portion  of  the  attention  of  the  Assembly. 

Verily,  the  yoke  of  such  constituents  is  not  easy,  nor 
is  their  burden  light.  The  public  prints  must  bear  fre- 
quent record  of  the  loquacity  of  their  representative,  or 
they  are  not  satisfied.  The  consequence  is,  that  in  the 
American  Congress  there  is  more  of  what  may  be  called 
speaking  against  time,  than  in  any  other  deliberative 
assembly  ever  known.  Each  member  is  aware  that  he 
must  either  assume  a  certain  prominence,  or  give  up  all 
hope  of  future  re-election,  and  it  is  needless  to  say  which 
alternative  is  usually  preferred.  A  universal  tolerance 
of  long  speeches  is  thus  generated,  and  no  attempt  is 
ever  made  to  restrict  the  range  of  argument  or  declama- 
tion, within  the  limits  even  of  remote  connexion  with 
the  subject  of  debate.  One  continually  reads  in  the  pub- 
lic papers  such  announcements  as  the  following: — 

"In  the  House  of  Representatives,  yesterday,  Mr. 
Tompkins  occupied  the  whole  day  with  the  continuation 
of  his  brilliant  speech  on  the  Indian  question,  and  is  in 
possession  of  the  floor  to-morrow.  He  is  expected  to  con- 
clude on  Friday;  but,  from  the  press  of  other  business,  it 
will  probably  be  Tuesday  next  before  Mr.  Jefferson  X. 
Bagg  will  commence  his  reply,  which  is  expected  to  oc- 
cupy the  whole  remainder  of  the  week." 

In  fact,  an  oration  of  eighteen  or  twenty  hours  is  no 


248  STYLE  OF  SPEAKING  IN  CONGRESS. 

uncommon  occurrence  in  the  American  Congress.  After 
this  vast  expenditure  of  breath,  the  next  step  of  the  ora- 
tor is  to  circulate  his  speech  in  the  form  ©f  a  closely- 
printed  pamphlet  of  some  hundred  and  fifty  pages.  A 
plentiful  supply  of  copies  is  despatched  for  the  use  of  his 
constituents,  who  swallow  the  bait;  and  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  session,  the  member  returns  to  his  native  town, 
•where  he  is  lauded,  feasted,  and  toasted,  and — what  he 
values,  I  doubt  not,  still  more — re-elected. 

The  Americans  enjoy  the  reputation  in  Europe  of  be- 
ing par  excellence  a  sensible  people.  I  fear  their  charac- 
ter in  this  respect  must  suffer  some  depreciation  in  the 
opinion  of  those  who  have  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  ob- 
serving the  proceedings  of  their  legislative  assemblies. 
The  mode  in  which  the  discussion  of  public  business  is  car- 
ried on  in  Congress,  certainly  struck  me  as  being  not  only 
unstatesmanlike,  but  in  flagrant  violation  of  the  plainest 
dictates  of  common  sense.  The  style  of  speaking  is  loose, 
rambling  and  inconclusive;  and  adherence  to  the  real  sub- 
ject of  discussion  evidently  forms  no  part,  either  of  the  in- 
tention of  the  orator,  or  the  expectation  of  his  audience.  A 
large  proportion  of  the  speakers  seems  to  take  part  in  a  de- 
bate with  no  other  view  than  that  of  individual  display, 
and  it  sometimes  happens  that  the  topic  immediately  press- 
ing on  the  attention  of  the  assembly,  by  some  strange  per- 
versity, is  almost  the  only  one  on  which  nothing  is  said. 

It  is  evident  that  such  a  style  of  discussion — if  discussion 
it  can  be  called — could  only  become  prevalent  in  an  as- 
sembly with  an  abundance  of  leisure  for  the  enactment 
of  these  oratorical  interludes.  In  a  body  like  the  British 
Parliament,  compelled  by  the  pressure  of  business  to  be 
economical  of  time,  it  could  not  possibly  be  tolerated.  The 
clamorous  interests  of  a  great  nation  are  matters  too  seri- 
ous to  be  trifled  with,  and  time  is  felt  to  be  too  valuable 
for  expenditure  on  speeches  better  fitted  for  a  spouting 
club,  than  a  grave,  deliberative  assembly. 

The  truth,  I  believe,  is,  that  the  American  Congress 
have  really  very  little  to  do.  All  the  multiplied  details 
of  local  and  municipal  legislation  fall  within  the  province 
of  the  State  governments,  and  the  regulation  of  commerce 
and  foreign  intercourse  practically  includes  all  the  im- 
portant questions  which  they  are  called  on  to  decide. 


WANT  OF  ORGANIZATION.  349 

Nor  are  the  members  generally  very  anxious  so  to  abbre- 
viate the  proceedings  of  Congress,  as  to  ensure  a  speedy 
return  to  their  provinces.  They  are  well  paid  for  every 
hour  lavished  on  the  public  business;  and  being  once  at 
Washington,  and  enjoying  the  pleasures  of  its  society,  few 
are  probably  solicitous  for  the  termination  of  functions 
which  combine  the  advantage  of  real  emolument,  with 
the  opportunities  of  acquiring  distinction  in  the  eyes  of 
their  constituents.  The  farce,  therefore,  by  common  con- 
sent, continues  to  be  played  on.  Speeches  apparently  in- 
terminable, are  tolerated,  though  not  listened  to;  and 
every  manoeuvre,  by  which  the  discharge  of  public  busi- 
ness can  be  protracted,  is  resorted  to,  with  the  most  per- 
fect success. 

Of  course,  I  state  this  merely  as  the  readiest  hypothe- 
sis by  which  the  facts,  already  mentioned,  can  be  ex- 
plained; but,  in  truth,  there  are  many  other  causes  at 
work.  Though  in  either  House  there  is  no  deficiency  of 
party  spirit,  and  political  hostilities  are  waged  with  great 
vigour,  yet  both  in  attack  and  defence  there  is  evidently 
an  entire  want  both  of  discipline  and  organization.  There 
is  no  concert,  no  division  of  duties,  no  compromise  of  opi- 
nion; but  the  movements  of  party  are  executed  without 
regularity  or  premeditation.  Thus,  instead  of  the  sys- 
tematic and  combined  attack  of  an  organized  body,  deli- 
berately concerted  on  principles  which  will  unite  the 
greatest  number  of  auxiliaries,  governments  have  in  ge- 
neral to  sustain  only  the  assaults  of  single  and  desultory 
combatants,  who  mix  up  so  much  of  individual  peculiarity 
of  opinion,  with  what  is  common  to  their  party,  that  any 
general  system  of  effective  co-operation  is  impossible. '  It 
is  evident  enough,  in  whatever  business  the  House  may 
be  engaged,  that  each  individual  acts  for  himself,  and  is 
eager  to  make  or  discover  some  opportunity  of  lavishing 
all  his  crudities  of  thought  or  fancy  on  his  brother  legis- 
lators. 

The  consequence  of  all  this  is,  that  no  one  can  guess, 
with  any  approach  to  probability,  the  course  of  discus- 
sion on  any  given  subject.  A  speech,  an  argument,  an 
insinuation,  an  allusion,  is  at  any  time  sufficient  to  turn 
the  whole  current  of  debate  into  some  new  and  unfore- 

32 


250  CLAIMS  OF  MR.  MONROE. 

seen  channel;  and  I  have  often  found  it  absolutely  impos- 
sible to  gather,  from  the  course  of  argument,  even  the  na- 
ture of  the  question  on  which  the  House  were  divided  in 
opinion.  In  England,  it  is  at  least  pretty  certain  that  a 
motion  on  criminal  law  will  not  lead  to  a  discussion  on 
foreign  policy,  including  the  improvement  of  turnpike 
roads,  the  expenses  of  Plymouth  breakwater,  the  renewal 
of  the  East  India  Company's  charter,  and  the  prospects 
of  the  Swan  River  settlement.  But  in  America,  a  debate 
in  Congress  is  a  sort  of  steeple-chase,  in  which  no  one 
knows  any  thing  of  the  country  to  be  crossed,  and  it  often 
happens  that  the  object  of  pursuit  is  altogether  lost  sight 
of  by  the  whole  party. 

One  effect — I  do  not  know  that  it  is  a  bad  one — of  this 
excursive  style  of  discussion  is,  that  every  member  finds  it 
necessary  to  be  on  the  qui  vive.  Something  may  at  any 
moment  be  said,  to  which  it  is  necessary  that  the  repre- 
sentative for  a  particular  state  or  district  should  immedi- 
ately reply.  Whatever  may  be  the  subject  of  debate,  no 
member — especially  in  the  Lower  House — can  be  absent 
a  single  hour  with  safety,  when  an  orator  of  the  hostile 
party,  according  to  the  American  phrase,  "  is  in  possession 
of  the  floor."  I  have  often,  in  coming  to  the  Capitol,  in- 
quired of  members  of  the  House  of  Representatives 
whether  it  was  probable  that  any  interesting  discussion 
would  take  place  in  the  course  of  the  day.  The  answer 
uniformly  was,  that  it  was  impossible  to  foresee;  for 
though  the  topic  then  occupying  the  attention  of  the 
House  might  be  of  the  most  common-place  kind,  the 
debate  was  liable  at  any  moment  to  diverge,  and  bring 
on  the  most  unexpected  results.  But  on  this  matter  as 
I  have  already  perhaps  dealt  too  much  in  "  wise  saws," 
I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  adducing  a  few  modern  in- 
stances. 

One  of  the  first  debates  at  which  I  was  present,  related 
to  a  pecuniary  claim  of  the  late  President  Monroe  on  the 
United  States,  amounting,  if  I  remember  rightly,  to  sixty 
thousand  dollars.  This  claim  had  long  been  urged,  and 
been  repeatedly  referred  to  committees  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  who,  after  a  careful  investigation  of  the 
subject,  had  uniformly  reported  in  favour  of  its  justice. 


CLAIM  OF  COMMODORE  DECATUR.  351 

The  question  at  length  came  on  for  discussion,  "Is  the 
debt  claimed  by  Mr.  Monroe  from  the  United  States  a 
just  debt  or  not?"  Nothing  could  possibly  be  more  sim- 
ple. Here  was  a  plain  matter  of  debtor  and  creditor;  a 
problem  of  figures,  the  solution  of  which  must  rest  on  a 
patient  examination  of  accounts,  and  charges,  and  ba- 
lances. It  was  a  question  after  the  heart  of  Joseph  Hume, 
—a  bone,  of  which  that  most  useful  legislator  understands 
so  well  how  to  get  at  the  marrow. 

Well,  how  was  this  dry  question  treated  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  ?  Why,  as  follows.  Little  or  nothing 
was  said  as  to  the  intrinsic  justice  or  validity  of  the  claim. 
Committees  of  the  House  had  repeatedly  reported  in  its 
favour,  and  I  heard  no  attempt,  by  fact  or  inference,  ta 
prove  the  fallacy  of  their  decision.  But  a  great  deal  was 
said  about  the  political  character  of  Mr.  Monroe  some  do- 
zen years  before,  and  a  great  deal  about  Virginia,  and  its 
Presidents  and  its  members,  and  its  attempts  to  govern  the 
Union,  and  its  selfish  policy.  A  vehement  discussion  took 
place  as  to  whether  Mr.  Monroe  or  Chancellor  Livingston 
had  been  the' efficient  agent  in  procuring  the  cession  of 
Louisiana.  Members  waxed  warm  in  attack  and  recri- 
mination, and  a  fiery  gentleman  from  Virginia  was  re- 
peatedly called  to  order  by  the  Speaker.  One  member 
declared,  that  disapproving  tolo  calo  of  the  former  policy 
of  Mr.  Monroe's  Cabinet,  he  should  certainly  now  oppose 
his  demand  for  the  payment  of  a  debt,  the  justice  of  which 
was  not  attempted  to  be  disproved.  Another  thought 
Mr.  Monroe  would  be  very  well  off  if  he  got  half  of  what 
he  claimed,  and  moved  an  amendment  to  that  effect, 
which,  being  considered  a  kind  of  compromise,  I  believe, 
was  at  length  carried,  after  repeated  adjournments,  and 
much  clamorous  debate. 

Another  instance  of  discussion,  somewhat  similar,  struck 
me  very  forcibly,  and  will  afford,  I  imagine,  sufficient  il- 
lustration of  the  mode  of  doing  business  in  the  House  of 
Representatives.  It  took  place  on  a  claim  put  forward 
by  the  widow  of  Commodore  Decatur,  for  prize  money 
due  to  him  and  his  ship's  crew  for  something  done  in  the 
Mediterranean.  The  particulars  I  forget,  but  they  are 
of  no  consequence.  The  Commodore  having  no  family, 


252  DEBATE  ON  THE  CLAIM. 

had  bequeathed  the  whole  of  his  property,  real  and  per- 
sonal, to  his  wife,  whom  circumstances  had  since  reduced 
to  poverty.  When  I  entered,  the  debate  had  already 
commenced,  and  the  House  seemed  almost  unanimous  in 
the  admission  of  the  claim.  This  was  dull  enough,  and  as 
the  subject  itself  had  little  to  engage  the  attention  of  a 
stranger,  1  determined  to  try  whether  any  thing  of  more 
interest  was  going  forward  in  the  Senate.  While  I  was 
conversing  with  a  member  of  the  House,  however,  some 
symptoms  of  difference  of  opinion  began  to  manifest  them- 
selves. One  member  proposed,  that  as  the  money  was  to 
be  granted  principally  with  a  view  to  benefit  the  widow 
of  Commodore  Decatur,  the  ordinary  rules  of  prize  divi- 
sion should  not  be  adhered  to,  and  that  a  larger  share  than 
usual  should  be  allotted  to  the  commander  of  the  arma- 
ment. This  proposition,  however,  was  evidently  adverse 
to  the  wishes  of  the  majority,  and  the  amendment  met 
with  little  support.  This  matter  being  settled,  the  discus- 
sion for  some  time  went  on  smoothly  enough,  and  there 
seemed  every  prospect  of  its  reaching  a  speedy  and  ami- 
cable termination. 

At  length,  however,  a  member  rose,  and  argued  that 
the  circumstance  of  the  Commodore  having  bequeathed 
his  whole  property  to  his  wife,  when  he  imagined  he  had 
very  little  property  to  leave,  afforded  no  ground  for  the 
conclusion,  that  had  he  known  of  this  large  addition,  it 
might  not  have  been  differently  applied.  He,  therefore, 
expressed  his  firm  determination  to  oppose  its  exclusive 
appropriation  to  the  widow.  The  widow,  however,  was 
not  without  able  and  zealous  advocates  to  set  forth  her 
claims,  and  urge  their  admission.  These  pronounced  her 
to  be  one  of  the  most  amiable  and  excellent  of  her  sex, 
and  maintained  that,  as  the  House  had  no  possible  access 
to  know  how  the  Commodore  would  have  acted  under 
circumstances  merely  hypothetical,  there  was  no  course 
to  be  pursued  but  to  appropriate  the  money  according  to 
the  desire  actually  expressed  in  his  last  will  and  testa- 
ment. 

While  the  House  were,  for  the  nonce,  divided  into  wi- 
dowites  and  anti-widowites,  the  discussion  became  still  far- 
ther embroiled.  New  matter  of  debate  arose.  Admitting 


DEBATE  IN  CONGRESS.  253 

that  Mrs.  Decatur  was  entitled  to  the  usufruct  of  the 
money  during  her  life,  was  it  fitting  that  she  should  have 
the  power  of  alienating  it  at  her  death  from  the  relatives 
of  her  husband?  This  was  very  warmly  debated.  At 
length,  a  gentlemen,  in  a  very  vehement  and  pathetic 
speech,  set  forth  the  attractions,  both  mental  and  person- 
al, of  two  young  ladies,  daughters  of  a  sister  of  Captain 
Decatur,  whose  necessities,  unfortunately,  were  equal  to 
their  merits.  He  had  the  honour,  he  said,  of  being  their 
neighbour  in  the  country ;  they  were  elegant  and  accom- 
plished, and  often  did  his  family  the  honour  to  accept  such 
hospitality  as  they  could  offer.  He  should  certainly  op- 
pose the  grant  altogether,  if  these  young  ladies  were  not 
to  come  in  for  a  share. 

This  speech  had  evidently  great  effect,  and  the  party 
of  the  young  ladies — comprising,  of  course,  all  the  bache- 
lors of  the  House — was  evidently  a  strong  one.  A  grave, 
elderly  member,  however,  took  up  the  cudgels  on  the 
other  side.  He  informed  the  House,  that  the  brother  of 
Commodore  Decatur  had  been  his  intimate  friend,  and, 
unfortunately,  had  left  a  family  very  scantily  provided 
for.  What  claims  could  any  young  ladies,  however  ac- 
complished, who  were  daughters  only  of  a  sister,  possess 
equal  to  those  of  this  brother's  children  ?  The  latter  were 
evidently  the  proper  objects  to  be  benefited  by  the  pre- 
sent grant.  He  should  oppose  it  on  any  other  terms. 

The  number  of  amendments  had  now  become  very 
great,  and  the  accumulation  of  obstacles  was  increasing 
with  every  speech.  I  was  assured, — and  from  the  tenor 
of  the  debate,  I  have  no  doubt  it  was  so, — that  a  majority 
was  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  original  claim,  but  minor 
discrepancies  of  opinion  were  found  to  be  irreconcilable. 
Some  insisted  on  the  widow  receiving  the  whole  amount 
of  the  grant ;  others  that  it  should  go  to  the  brother's  fa- 
mily; others  that  the  young  ladies  should  be  enriched  by 
it,  and  others  still  were  for  a  general  division,  while  a 
considerable  party  advocated  the  propriety  of  voting  the 
grant,  untrammelled  by  condition  of  any  sort.  The  result 
was,  that,  after  a  most  unprofitable  waste  of  many  hours, 
no  money  was  granted  at  all,  and  the  matter  left  for  far- 
ther debate  in  another  Congress,  when  the  farce  I  have 


254  AMERICAN  ELOQUENCE. 

just  described  will  be  re-enacted,  no  doubt,  with  all  its 
original  spirit. 

During  my  attendances  at  the  Capitol,  I  have  been 
•sometimes  amused  by  observing  the  process  by  which  a 
question,  originally  simple,  becomes,  in  the  progress  of 
discussion,  so  complicated  and  mixed  up  with  irrelevant 
matter,  and  loses  so  completely  all  logical  form,  that  it 
might  puzzle  the  most  expert  dialectician  to  form  any 
judgment  on  it  at  all.  I  have  often  attempted,  on  enter- 
ing the  House  during  a  debate,  to  discover  from  the 
speeches  something  of  the  nature  of  the  topic  which  oc- 
cupied the  attention  of  the  assembly.  In  this,  I  was  ge- 
nerally unsuccessful,  and  my  conjectures  were  sometimes 
almost  ludicrously  wide  of  the  mark.  Indeed,  it  was  no 
uncommon  occurrence  for  the  mass  of  amendments  to  be- 
come so  great,  that  even  the  members  were  bewildered, 
and  were  compelled  to  apply  to  the  Speaker  to  explain 
their  bearing  on  each  other,  and  the  original  question; 
and  certainly  nothing  gave  me  a  higher  opinion  of  the 
powers  of  that  gentleman,  than  the  clear  and  skilful  man- 
ner in  which  he  managed  to  recall  the  attention  to  the 
real  point  at  issue,  and  prevent  the  House  from  becoming 
absolutely  stultified  by  its  own  proceedings. 

In  looking  back  to  the  earlier  days  of  the  republic,  it 
would  be  scarcely  fair  to  try  the  specimens  of  oratory  that 
have  come  down  to  us  by  the  standard  of  very  rigid  criti- 
cism. The  appropriate  eloquence  of  the  time  was  that 
of  action,  not  of  words.  While  the  struggle  for  liberty 
was  undecided,  the  men  who  dwelt  in  camps,  and  spoke 
with  swords  in  their  hands,  had  no  leisure  to  think  of 
tropes  and  figures,  and  their  addresses  to  their  country- 
men were  distinguished  by  a  manly  earnestness  worthy  of 
the  great  cause  in  which  they  had  embarked,  and  which 
more  than  compensated  for  unavoidable  deficiencies  of 
taste. 

But  with  the  achievement  of  the  national  independence 
a  different  state  of  things  arose.  Oratory,  which  on  great 
and  critical  occasions,  when  mighty  interests  are  at  stake, 
and  men  give  strong  utterance  to  irrepressible  convic- 
tions, is  less  an  art  than  an  impulse,  became  in  more 
peaceful  times  a  mere  branch  of  professional  accomplish- 


AMERICAN  ELOQUENCE.  255 

ment,  which  it  was  considered  necessary  for  particular 
aspirants  to  acquire.  The  succeeding  generation  of  Ame- 
ricans were  not  content,  as  their  fathers  had  been,  with 
the  simple  expression  of  their  feelings  and  opinions,  with- 
out rhetorical  embellishment, or  studied  artifices  of  speech. 
They  attempted  higher  flights,  but  their  ambition  was 
more  remarkable  for  its  daring  than  its  success.  The  re- 
corded specimens  of  this  period  of  the  republic  indicate  a 
sad  deficiency  of  taste,  originality,  and  imaginative  power. 
Starting,  like  another  Adam,  into  sudden  political  exist- 
ence, speaking  the  language,  preserving  the  laws,  and 
dependent  on  the  literature  of  England,  America  found  it 
more  difficult  to  cast  off  the  trammels  of  mental  allegi- 
ance, than  to  burst  asunder  the  bonds  of  physical  enthral- 
ment.  Strong  arms  and  brave  hearts  had  proved  ade- 
quate to  the  one,  but  a  higher  intellectual  advancement 
than  they  had  yet  attained  was  necessary  for  the  other. 

Thus  it  was,  that  from  the  very  dawn  of  their  inde- 
pendence, the  Americans  became  an  imitative  people. 
Having  no  examples  of  native  excellence  to  appeal  to, 
they  at  once  adopted  the  models  of  another  nation,  with- 
out reflecting  that  these,  however  excellent,  might  be  ill 
adapted  for  imitation  in  a  state  of  manners  arid  society 
altogether  different.  Surrounded  by  all  the  elements  of 
originality  in  the  world  of  untried  images  and  associations 
with  which  they  were  familiar,  they  renounced  them  all, 
to  become  the  imitators  of  a  people,  who,  to  this  hour, 
have  denied  them  even  the  praise  of  skilful  imitation. 

The  world  affords  no  instance  of  a  people,  among  whom 
an  eloquence,  merely  imitative,  ever  was  successful.  It 
is  indeed  quite  evident,  that  eloquence,  to.be  effective, 
must  be  expressly  accommodated,  not  only  to  the  general 
condition  of  society,  but  to  the  habits,  intelligence,  sympa- 
thies, prejudices,  and  peculiarities  of  the  audience.  The 
images  which  appeal  most  forcibly  to  the  feelings  of  one 
people,  will  fail  utterly  of  effect  when  addressed  to  ano- 
ther, living  under  a  different  climate,  accustomed  to  a 
different  aspect  of  external  nature,  and  of  habits  and  par- 
tialities generated  under  a  different  modification  of  social 
intercourse. 

The  first  great  objection,  therefore,  to  American  elo- 
quence, is,  that  it  is  not  American.  When  a  traveller 


256  AMERICAN  ELOQUENCE. 

visits  the  United  States,  and  sees  the  form  and  pressure 
of  society;  a  population  thinly  scattered  through  regions 
of  interminable  forest;  appearances  of  nature  widely  va- 
rying from  those  of  European  countries;  the  entire  ab- 
stinence of  luxury;  the  prevailing  plainness  of  manner 
and  expression;  the  general  deficiency  of  literary  ac- 
quirement; the  thousand  visible  consequences  of  demo- 
cratic institutions;  he' is  naturally  led  to  expect  that  the 
eloquence  of  such  a  people  would  be  marked  at  least  by 
images  and  associations  peculiar  to  their  own  circum- 
stances and  condition.  This  anticipation  would,  no 
doubt,  be  strengthened  by  the  first  aspect  of  Congress. 
He  would  find  in  the  Capitol  of  Washington  two  assem- 
blies of  plain  farmers  and  attorneys;  men  who  exhibited 
in  their  whole  deportment  an  evident  aversion  from  the 
graces  and  elegancies  of  polished  society;  of  coarse  appe- 
tites, and  coarser  manners;  and  betraying  a  practical  con- 
tempt for  all  knowledge  not  palpably  convertible  to  the 
purposes  of  pecuniary  profit.  The  impression  might  not 
be  pleasing,  but  he  would  congratulate  himself  on  having 
at  least  escaped  from  the  dull  regions  of  common-place, 
and  calculate  on  being  spared  the  penalty  of  listening  to 
the  monotonous  iteration  of  hackneyed  metaphor,  and 
the  crambe  recocta  of  British  oratory,  hashed  up  for  pur- 
poses of  public  benefit  or  private  vanity,  by  a  Washing- 
ton cuisinier. 

In  all  this  he  would  be  most  wretchedly  deceived. 
He  might  patiently  sit  out  speeches  of  a  week's  duration, 
without  detecting  even  the  vestige  of  originality,  ei- 
ther of  thought  or  illustration.  But  he  would  be  dosed 
ad  nauseam,  with  trite  quotations  from  Latin  authors, 
apparently  extracted  for  the  nonce  from  the  school-books 
of  some  neighbouring  academy  for  young  gentlemen. 
He  would  hear  abundance  of  truisms,  both  moral  and 
political,  emphatically  asserted,  and  most  illogically 
proved;  he  would  learn  the  opinions  of  each  successive 
orator  on  all  matters  of  national  policy,  foreign  and  do- 
mestic. He  would  be  gorged  to  the  very  throat  with 
the  most  extravagant  praises  of  the  American  govern- 
ment, and  the  character  and  intelligence  of  the  people. 
He  would  listen  to  the  interminable  drivellings  of  an  in- 
satiable vanity,  which,  like  the  sisters  of  the  horse-leech, 


ELOQUENCE  OF  CONGRESS.  357 

is  for  ever  crying,  "  Give,  give."  He  would  follow  the 
orator  into  the  seventh  heaven  of  bombast,  and  descend 
with  him  into  the  lowest  regions  of  the  bathos.  Still,  in 
all  this  he  would  detect  nothing  but  a  miserably  executed 
parody — a  sort  of  bungling  plagiarism — an  imitation  of 
inapplicable  models — a  mimicry  like  that  of  the  clown  in 
a  pantomime,  all  ridicule  and  burlesque.  In  American 
oratory,  in  short,  he  will  find  nothing  vernacular  but  the 
vulgarities,  and  the  entire  disregard  of  those  proprieties, 
on  the  scrupulous  observance  of  which  the  effect  even  of 
the  highest  eloquence  must  necessarily  depend. 

In  Congress,  the  number  of  men  who  have  received — 
what  even  in  the  United  States  is  called — a  classical  edu- 
cation, is  extremely  small,  and  of  these  the  proportion 
who  still  retain  sufficient  scholarship  to  find  pleasure  in 
allusion  to  the  words  of  the  great  writers  of  antiquity, 
is  yet  smaller.  The  great  majority  are  utterly  and  reck- 
lessly ignorant  of  the  learned  languages,  and  the  whole 
literature  imbodied  in  them;  and  it  is  evident  that,  with 
such  an  audience,  any  appeal  to  classical  authority  is 
mere  waste  of  breath  in  the  one  party,  and  of  patience 
in  the  other.  It  may  appear  strange,  under  such  circum- 
stances, but  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  fact,  that  in  the 
course  of  a  session,  more  Latin — such  as  it  is — is  quoted 
in  the  House  of  Representatives,  than  in  both  Houses  of 
the  British  Parliament.  Indeed,  it  is  ludicrous  enough 
to  observe  the  solicitude  of  men,  evidently  illiterate/  to 
trick  out  their  speeches  with  such  hackneyed  ext/acts 
from  classical  authors,  as  they  may  have  picked  up  in 
the  course  of  a  superficial  reading.  Thus,  if  a  member 
be  attacked,  he  will  probably  assure  the  House,  not  in 
plain  English,  that  the  charge  of  his  opponent  is  weak, 
and  without  foundation,  but  in  Latin  that  \L  is  "  telum 
imbelle  et  sine  iclu."  Should  he  find  occasion  to  pro- 
fess philanthropy,  the  chances  are  that  thd  words  of  Te- 
rence, "  Homo  sum,  humani  m/«7,"&c.  will  be  mis- 
pronounced in  a  pathetic  accent,  witfi  the  right  hand 
pressed  gracefully  on  the  breast.  In  short,  members 
were  always  ready  with  some  petty  scrap  of  threadbare 
trumpery,  which,  like  the  Cosmogonist  in  the  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,  they  kept  cut  and  dry  for  the  frequent  occa- 
sions of  oratorical  emergency. 

33 


258  MR-  RANDOLPH. 

During  my  stay  in  Washington,  I  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  be  present  at  one  debate,  in  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, which  excited  much  public  interest.  It  re- 
lated to  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Randolph  as  Minister  to 
the  Court  of  Russia.  The  circumstances  were  as  follow: 
Early  in  1830,  it  was  judged  right  by  the  Cabinet  of 
Washington  to  have  a  resident  minister  at  the  Court  of 
Russia.  The  individual  selected  for  this  high  appoint- 
ment was  Mr.  John  Randolph,  a  gentleman  of  much  ec- 
centricity, high  talents,  and  confessedly  gifted  with  ex- 
traordinary powers  as  a  debater.  Though  this  gentle- 
man has  never  held  any  political  office,  yet  he  has  uni- 
formly engrossed  a  very  large  share  of  public  attention, 
and  has  had  the  art  or  the  misfortune  in  his  own  country 
to  attract  an  unexampled  portion  of  sincere  admiration 
and  vehement  dislike.  No  man  in  America  ever  brought 
to  debate  an  equal  power  of  biting  sarcasm,  and  few 
men,  perhaps,  if  so  gifted,  would  have  used  it  so  unspa- 
ringly. With  the  qualities  of  a  statesman,  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph is  not  considered  by  his  countrymen  to  be  largely 
endowed.  His  true  element  is  opposition^  He  has  at- 
tacked every  successive  administration  for  the  last  thirty 
years,  with  what  vigour  and  effect  those  who  have 
writhed  under  the  torture  of  his  withering  invectives  can 
alone  adequately  describe.  There  is,  indeed,  something 
Umost  fearfully  ingenious  in  his  employment  of  epithets, 
w\uch  cut,  as  it  were,  to  the  very  core,  the  objects  of  his 
wrath.  In  habit  and  feeling,  no  man  can  be  more  aris- 
tocratic than  Mr.  Randolph,  yet  he  has  always  been  the 
stanch  advocate  of  democratic  principles.  In  one  re- 
spect, ht  is  the  very  converse  of  Jefferson.  He  detests 
French  literature  and  French  society,  praises  England 
and  her  government,  perhaps,  more  than  they  deserve,  and 
among  his  strange  and  multifarious  acquirements  must 
be  included  an  accurate  acquaintance  with  the  genealo- 
gies of  the  whole  British  Peerage! 

When  the  situation  of  Minister  to  the  Court  of  St.  Pe- 
tersburg was  offered  to  this  remarkable  individual,  he 
candidly  informed  the  President  that  the  state  of  his 
health  was  such,  as  to  render  him  incapable  of  braving 
the  severities  of  a  Russian  climate,  and  that,  unless  per- 
mitted to  pass  the  winter  months  in  London  or  Paris,  he 


MK.  TRISTRAM  BURGESS.  359 

should  feel  compelled  to  decline  the  appointment.  The 
permission  was  granted,  and  Mr.  Randolph  departed  on 
his  mission.  He  left,  however,  many  enemies  behind 
him;  men  who  had  suffered  under  the  lash  of  his  elo- 
quence, and  were  naturally  anxious  to  seize  every  oppor- 
tunity of  retorting  punishment  on  so  formidable  an  op- 
ponent. 

A  few  days  before  my  arrival  in  Washington,  the  sub- 
ject of  his  appointment  had  been  fairly  brought  into  de- 
bate, and  a  Mr.  Tristram  Burgess,  from  Rhode  Island, 
had  made  a  vehement  attack,  both  on  Mr.  Randolph,  and 
on  the  Government.  This  called  up  Mr.  Crambreleng, 
one  of  the  members  for  New  York;  a  gentleman  of  great 
talent,  and  decidedly  the  first  political  economist  of  the 
Union,  who  entered  warmly  on  the  defence  of  Ministers. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Cambreleng,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  temporary  excitement,  in  some  degree,  ex- 
ceeded the  legitimate  limits  of  legislative  discussion. 
Mr.  Tristram  Burgess  happened  to  be  an  elderly  gentle- 
man, with  a  hooked  nose,  a  head  bald  on  the  summit, 
but  the  sides  of  which  displayed  hair  somewhat  blanched 
by  time.  In  allusion  to  these  personal  peculiarities,  Mr. 
Cambreleng  certainly  said  something  about  the  fires  of 
Etna  glowing  beneath  the  snows  of  Caucasus,  and,  also, 
rather  unpleasantly,  compared  his  opponent  to  a  bald- 
headed  vulture.  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  bad  taste 
of  all  this;  and  I  know  Mr.  Crambreleng  well  enough  to 
entertain  the  perfect  conviction,  that  had  any  opportu- 
nity of  subsequent  explanation  been  afforded  him,  he 
would  have  been  most  ready  to  disclaim  any  hasty  ex- 
pression that  could  be  considered  personally  offensive  to 
his  opponent.  It  appeared,  however,  that  explanation 
was  neither  demanded  nor  expected.  The  House  ad- 
journed, and  nearly  three  weeks  elapsed  before  the  sub- 
ject again  came  on  for  discussion. 

I  had  no  sooner  reached  Washington  than  I  learned 
that  great  expectations  were  excited  by  the  anticipated 
reply  of  Mr.  Burgess,  who  was  one  of  the  crack  orators 
of  the  House.  Poor  Mr.  Cambreleng  was  evidently  re- 
garded as  a  doomed  man;  his  fate  was  sealed;  he  could 
have  no  chance  in  a  war  of  words  with  an  intellectual 
giant  like  Mr.  Tristram  Burgess!  I  received  congratula- 


260  SPEECH  OF  MR.  BURGESS. 

tions  on  all  hands  on  my  good  fortune  in  enjoying,  at 
least,  one  opportunity  of  hearing  a  first  rate  specimen  of 
American  eloquence.  In  short,  the  cry  was  still  "  he 
comes;"  and  when,  on  the  appointed  day,  he  did  come, 
it  was  bearing  such  a  mass  of  written  papers,  as  gave 
promise  of  a  prepared  and  voluminous  speech. 

The  promise  was  not  belied.  Mr.  Burgess's  talent 
for  diffusion  was  of  the  first  order,  and  the  speech  was 
Shandean.  Being,  however,  what  is  vulgarly  called  a 
sloiv  coach,  he  did  not  get  over  the  ground  so  rapidly  as 
might  have  been  desired,  considering  the  vast  distance  he 
was  determined  to  travel.  I  know,  at  least,  that  he  was 
three  days  on  the  road,  and  the  point  to  which  he  at  last 
conducted  his  passengers,  appeared  to  my  vision  very  si- 
milar to  that  from  which  he  started. 

Though  my  curiosity  had  been  a  good  deal  excited, 
the  first  three  sentences  were  enough  to  calm  it.  Mr. 
Burgess  was  evidently  a  man  of  some  cleverness,  with 
a  tolerable  command  of  words,  and  a  good  deal  of  world- 
ly sagacity.  He  occasionally  made  a  good  hit,  and  once 
or  twice  showed  considerable  adroitness  in  parrying  at- 
tack; but  he  was  utterly  wanting  in  taste  and  imagina- 
tion; there  were  no  felicities  either  of  thought  or  ex- 
pression; nor  could  I  detect  a  trace  of  any  single  quality 
which  could  be  ranked  among  the  higher  gifts  of  an  ora- 
tor, a  three  days'  speech  from  such  a  man  was  certainly 
a  very  serious  affair;  and  though,  as  a  matter  of  duty,  on 
so  great  an  occasion,  I  did  bring  myself  to  sit  out  the 
whole  of  it,  it  was  done  with  the  resolute  determination 
to  endure  no  second  penance  of  a  similar  description. 

Were  it  possible  to  give  any  tolerable  report  of  a 
speech,  which,  of  itself,  would  fill  a  volume,  I  would 
willingly  appeal  to  it  as  exemplifying  the  justice  of  every 
blunder,  both  of  taste  and  judgment,  which  I  have  at- 
tributed to  American  eloquence.  There  were  scraps 
of  Latin  and  of  Shakspeare;  there  were  words  without 
meaning,  and  meanings  not  worth  the  trouble  of  imbo- 
dying  in  words;  there  were  bad  jokes,  and  bad  logic,  and 
arguments  without  logic  of  any  kind;  there  were  abun- 
dance of  exotic  graces,  and  home-bred  vulgarities, — of 
elaborate  illustration  of  acknowledged  truths, — of  vehe- 
ment invective,  and  prosy  declamation, — of  conclusions 


SPEECH  OF  MR.  BURGESS.  261 

without  premises,  and  premises  that  led  to  no  conclusion; 
and  yet  this  very  speech  was  the  subject  of  an  eight 
days'  wonder  to  the  whole  Union!  The  amount  of  praise 
bestowed  on  it  in  the  public  journals,  would  have  been 
condemned  as  hyperbolical  if  applied  to  an  oration  of 
Demosthenes.  Mr.  Burgess,  at  the  termination  of  the 
session  was  feted  at  New  York;  and  Rhode  Island  exult- 
ed in  the  verbal  prowess  of  the  most  gifted  of  her  sons! 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  speech  of 
Mr.  Burgess  was  an  excellent  speech  of  the  kind;  and, 
in  order  to  give  the  reader  some  more  definite  notion  of 
what  that  kind  was,  I  shall  enter  on  a  few  details.  Be 
it  known,  then,  that  a  large  portion  of  the  first  day's 
oration  related  to  the  personal  allusions  of  Mr.  Cambre- 
leng,  who,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  had  said  something 
about  the  snows  of  Caucasus,  and  bald-headed  vultures. 
Such  an  affair  in  the  British  Parliament  would  probably 
have  been  settled  at  the  moment  by  the  good  feeling  of 
the  House.  If  not,  a  short  and  pithy  retort  was  cer- 
tainly allowable,  and  good  sense  would  have  prevented 
more. 

But  the  House  of  Representatives  and  Mr.  Burgess 
manage  these  affairs  differently.  The  orator  commenced 
upon  gray  hair,  and  logically  drew  the  conclusion,  that, 
as  such  discoloration  was  the  natural  consequence  of 
advanced  years,  any  disrespectful  allusion  to  the  effect, 
implied  contempt  for  the  cause.  Now,  among  every 
people  in  the  world,  Mahometan  or  Christian,  civilized 
or  barbarous,  old  age  was  treated  with  reverence.  Even 
on  the  authority  of  Scripture,  we  are  entitled  to  assert, 
that  the  gray  head  should  be  regarded  as  a  crown  of  ho- 
nour. All  men  must  become  old,  unless  they  die  young; 
and  every  member  of  this  House  must  reckon  on  sub- 
mitting to  the  common  fate  of  humanity,  &c.  &c.  &c., 
and  so  on  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

Having  said  all  that  human  ingenuity  could  devise 
about  gray  hair,  next  came  bald  heads;  and  here  the  ora- 
tor, with  laudable  candour,  proceeded  to  admit  that  bald- 
ness might,  in  one  sense,  be  considered  a  defect.  Na- 
ture had  apparently  intended  that  the  human  cranium 
should  be  covered  with  hair,  and  there  was  no  denying 


262  TALENT  OF  CONGRESS. 

that  the  integument  was  both  useful  and  ornamental.  I 
am  not  sure  whether,  at  this  stage  of  the  argument,  Mr. 
Burgess  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  of  impress- 
ing the  House  with  a  due  sense  of  the  virtues  of  bear's 
grease  and  macassar  oil.  I  certainly  remember  anticipa- 
ting an  episode  on  nightcaps  and  Welsh  wigs,  but,  on 
these,  the  orator  was  unaccountably  silent.  He  duly  in- 
formed the  House,  however,  that  many  of  the  greatest 
heroes  and  philosophers  could  boast  little  covering  on 
their  upper  region.  Aristotle  was  bald,  and  so  was  Ju- 
lius Caesar,  &c.  &c.  &c. 

It  was  not  till  the  subject  of  baldness  hacl  become  as 
stale  and  flat,  as  it  certainly  was  unprofitable,  that  the 
audience  were  introduced  to  the  vulture,  who  was  kept 
so  long  hovering  over  the  head  of  Mr.  Burgess's  oppo- 
nent, that  one  only  felt  anxious  that  he  should  make  his 
pounce  and  have  done  with  it.  Altogether,  to  give  the 
vulture — like  the  devil — his  due,  he  was  a  very  quiet 
bird,  and  more  formidable  from  the  offensive  nature  of 
his  droppings,  than  any  danger  to  be  apprehended  from 
his  beak  or  claws.  In  truth,  he  did  seem  to  be  some- 
what scurvily  treated  by  the  orator,  who,  after  keeping 
him  fluttering  about  the  hall  for  some  three  hours,  at  last 
rather  unceremoniously  disclaimed  all  connexion  with 
him,  and  announced  that  he — Mr.  Burgess — was  "an 
eagle  soaring  in  his  pride  of  place,  and,  therefore,  not 
by  a  moping  owl,  to  be  hawked  at,  and  killed!"  This 
was  too  much  for  gravity;  but,  luckily,  the  day's  oration, 
had  reached  its  termination,  and  the  house  broke  up  in  a 
state  of  greater  exhilaration,  than  could  reasonably  have 
been  anticipated  from  the  nature  and  extent  of  the  in- 
fliction. 

Having  dealt,  perhaps,  somewhat  too  largely,  in  cen- 
sure, it  is  only  fair  that  I  should  now  advert  to  a  few 
items  which  are  entitled  to  a  place  on  the  per  contra 
side  of  the  account.  In  Congress,  there  is  certainly  no 
deficiency  of  talent,  nor  of  that  homely  and  practical  sa- 
gacity, which,  without  approaching  the  dignity  of  philo- 
sophy, is,  perhaps,  even  a  safer  guide  in  the  administra- 
tion of  a  government  like  that  of  the  United  States. 
American  legislators  talk  nonsensically,  but  they  act 


AMERICAN  LEGISLATORS.  263 

prudently;  and  their  character  is  the  very  reverse  of  that 
attributed  by  Rochester  to  the  second  Charles — 

"  Who  never  said  a  foolish  thing1, 
And  never  did  a  wise  one." 

It  is  not  right  that  these  men  should  be  judged  exclu- 
sively by  their  words;  their  actions  also  must  be  taken 
into  account  in  forming  a  fair  estimate  of  their  charac- 
ter, moral  and  political.  Were  the  condition  of  society 
to  continue  unchanged,  they  might  commit  blunders 
without  end,  but  there  would  be  no  danger  that  the  in- 
terests of  the  community  would  suffer  from  pertinacious 
adherence  to  them.  In  this  country,  measures  are  judged 
less  by  their  speculative  tendencies,  and  more  remote 
consequences,  than  by  their  direct  and  immediate  results 
on  the  pockets  or  privileges  of  the  people.  In  Congress, 
there  is  much  clearness  of  vision;  but  little  enlargement 
of  view;  considerable  perspicacity  in  discerning  effects, 
but  none  of  that  higher  faculty  which  connects  them 
with  their  causes,  and  traces  the  chain  of  consequences 
beyond  the  range  of  actual  experience.  In  short,  it 
strikes  me  that  American  legislators  are  more  remarka- 
ble for  acuteness  than  foresight;  for  those  qualities  of  in- 
tellect which  lead  men  to  profit  by  experience,  than 
those  which  enable  them  to  direct  it. 

I  have  already  said  that  the  speaking  in  the  Senate  is 
very  superior  to  that  in  the  other  house;  an  opinion 
which  I  early  took  up,  and  subsequently  felt  no  tempta- 
tion to  change.  Yet  the  faults  of  both  bodies  differ  ra- 
ther in  degree  than  in  character.  There  is  the  same 
loose,  desultory,  and  inconclusive  mode  of  discussion  in 
both;  but  in  the  Senate  there  is  less  talking  for  the  mere 
purpose  of  display,  and  less  of  that  tawdry  emptiness 
and  vehement  imbecility  which  prevail  in  the  Repre- 
sentatives. Though  the  members  of  the  Senate  be  ab- 
solutely and  entirely  dependent  on  the  people,  they  are 
dependent  in  a  larger  sense:  dependent  not  on  the  petty 
clubs  and  coteries  of  a  particular  neighbourhood,  but  on 
great  masses  and  numbers  of  men,  embracing  every  in- 
terest and  pursuit,  and  covering  a  wide  extent  of  coun- 
try. Then,  from  the  comparative  paucity  of  their  num- 
bers, there  is  less  jostling  and  scrambling  in  debate,  more 
statesman-like  argument,  and  less  schoolboy  declamatioaj 


264  DISCUSSION  IN  THE  SENATE. 

in  short,  considerably  less  outcry,  and  a  great  deal  more 
wool. 

The  Senate  contains  men  who  would  do  honour  to  any 
legislative  assembly  in  the  world.  Those  who  left  the 
most  vivid  impression  on  my  memory  are  Mr.  Living- 
ston, now  Secretary  of  State,  and  Mr.  Webster,  whose 
powers,  both  as  a  lawyer  and  a  debater,  are  without  ri- 
val in  the  United  States.  Of  these  eminent  individuals, 
and  others,  whose  intercourse  I  enjoyed  during  my  stay 
in  Washington,  I  shall  hereafter  have  occasion  to  speak. 
There  were  other  members  of  the  Senate,  however,  ta 
whose  speeches  I  always  listened  with  pleasure.  Among 
these  were  General  Hayne,  from  South  Carolina, — who, 
as  Governor  of  that  State,  has  since  put  the  Union  in 
imminent  peril  of  mutilation, — and  Mr.  Tazewell,  of 
Virginia,  a  speaker  of  great  logical  acuteness,  clear,  for- 
cible, and  direct  in  his  arguments.  General  Smith,  of 
Maryland,  and  Mr.  Forsyth,  of  Georgia,  both  struck 
me  as  being  particularly  free  from  the  sins  that  do  most 
easily  beset  their  countrymen.  When  either  of  these 
gentlemen  addressed  the  House,  I  always  felt  secure,  not 
only  that  they  had  something  to  say,  but  that  they  had 
something  worth  saying;  an  assurance  of  which  they 
only  who  have  gone  through  a  course  of  Congressional 
debates  can  appreciate  the  full  value. 

But  whatever  advantages  the  speeches  of  the  Senate 
may  possess  over  those  of  the  Representatives,  certainly 
brevity  is  not  of  the  number.  Every  subject  is  over- 
laid; there  is  a  continual  sparring  about  trifles,  and,  it 
struck  me,  even  a  stronger  display  of  sectional  jealousies 
than  in  the  other  House.  This  latter  quality  probably 
arises  from  the  senators  being  the  representatives  of  an 
entire  community,  with  separate  laws,  interests,  and 
prejudices,  and  constituting  one  of  the  sovereign  mem- 
bers of  the  confederation.  When  a  member  declares 
his  opinions  on  any  question,  he  is  understood  to  speak 
the  sentiments  of  a  State,  and  he  is  naturally  jealous  of 
the  degree  of  respect  with  which  so  important  a  revela- 
tion may  be  received.  Then  there  are  state  antipathies, 
and  state  affinities,  a  predisposition  to  offence  in  one 
quarter,  and  to  lend  support  in  another;  and  there  is  the 
odium  in  longum  jaciens  between  the  Northern  and 


GOVERNMENT  PURELY  ELECTIVE.  265 

Southern  States,  shedding  its  venom  in  every  debate, 
and  influencing  the  whole  tenor  of  legislation. 

One  of  the  great  evils  arising,  in  truth,  out  of  the  very 
nature  of  the  Union,  is  the  sectional  spirit  apparent  in 
all  the  proceedings  of  Congress.  A  representative  from 
one  state  by  no  means  considers  himself  bound  to  watch 
over  the  interests  of  another;  and  each  being  desirous  to 
secure  such  local  objects  as  may  be  conducive  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  his  own.  district,  every  species  of  trickery 
and  cabal  is  put  in  requisition  by  which  these  objects  may 
be  obtained.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  prevalence 
of  such  feelings  is  quite  inconsistent  with  sound  and 
wholesome  legislation.  Measures  are  estimated,  not  by 
their  own  merits,  and  their  tendency  to  benefit  the  whole 
Union,  but  by  the  degree  in  which  they  can  be  made  to 
subserve  particular  interests.  One  portion  of  the  States 
is  banded  against  another;  there  is  no  feeling  of  com- 
munity of  interests;  jealousies  deepen  into  hostilities; 
the  mine  is  laid,  a  spark  at  length  falls,  and  the  grand 
federal  Constitution  is  blown  into  a  thousand  fragments. 

Many  evils  arise  from  the  circumstance  of  the  Govern- 
ment, both  in  its  executive  and  legislative  branches,  be- 
ing purely  elective.  The  members  of  the  latter,  being 
abjectly  dependent  on  the  people,  are  compelled  to  adopt 
both  the  principles  and  the  policy  dictated  by  their  con- 
stituents. To  attempt  to  stem  the  torrent  of  popular 
passion  and  clamour,  by  a  policy  at  once  firm  and  en- 
lightened, must  belong  to  representatives  somewhat  more 
firmly  seated  than  any  which  are  to  be  found  in  Congress. 
Public  men,  in  other  countries,  may  be  the  parasites  of 
the  people,  but  in  America  they  are  necessarily  so.  In- 
dependence is  impossible.  They  are  slaves,  and  feel 
themselves  to  be  so.  They  must  act,  speak,  and  vote, 
according  to  the  will  of  their  master.  Let  these  men 
hide  their  chains  as  they  will,  still  they  encircle  their 
limbs,  galling  their  flesh,  and  impeding  their  motions; 
and  it  is,  perhaps,  the  worst  and  most  demoralizing  re- 
sult of  this  detestable  system,  that  every  man,  ambitious 
of  popular  favour, — and,  in  America,  who  is  not  so? — is 
compelled  to  adopt  a  system  of  reservation.  He  keeps 
a  set  of  exoteric  dogmas,  which  may  be  changed  or  mo- 
dified to  suit  the  taste  or  fashion  of  the  moment.  But 

34 


266  DEPENDENCE  OF  THE  LEGISLATURE. 

there  are  esoteric  opinions,  very  different  from  any  thing 
to  be  found  in  State  documents,  or  speeches  in  Congress, 
or  fourth  of  July  orations,  which  imbody  the  conviction 
of  the  man,  and  which  are  not  to  be  surrendered  up  at 
the  bidding  of  a  mob. 

I  speak  now  of  minds  of  the  higher  order.  The  ma- 
jority of  Congress  are  fitted  for  nothing  better  than  what 
they  are.  God  meant  them  to  be  tools,  and  they  are  so. 
But  there  are  men  among  them  qualified  to  shine  in  a 
higher  sphere;  who  stand  prominently  out  among  the 
meaner  spirits  by  whom  they  are  surrounded,  and  would 
be  distinguished  in  any  country  by  vigour,  activity,  and 
comprehension  of  thought.  These  men  must  feel,  that 
to  devote  their  great  powers  to  support  and  illustrate  the 
prejudices  of  the  ignorant  and  vulgar,  is  to  divert  their 
application  from  those  lofty  purposes  for  which  they  were 
intended.  It  cannot  be  without  a  sense  of  degradation 
that  they  are  habitually  compelled  to  bear  part  in  the  pet- 
ty squabblings  of  Congress;  to  enter  keenly  into  the  mi~ 
serable  contests  for  candles-ends  and  cheeseparings;  to 
become  the  cats'  paws  of  sectional  cupidity;  to  dole  out 
prescribed  opinions;  to  dazzle  with  false  glitter,  and  con- 
vince with  false  reasoning;  to  flatter  the  ignorant,  and 
truckle  to  the  base;  to  have  no  object  of  ambition  but 
the  offices  of  a  powerless  executive;  to  find  no  field  for 
the  exercise  of  their  higher  faculties;  to  know  they  are 
distrusted,  and,  judging  from  the  men  with  whom  they 
mingle,  to  feel  they  ought  to  be  so. 

It  is  to  be  wished  that  the  writings  of  Burke  were  bet- 
ter known  and  appreciated  in  America.  Of  all  mo- 
dern statesmen,  Burke  brought  to  the  practical  duties  of 
legislation  the  most  gifted  and  philosophical  mind.  In 
an  age  prolific  in  great  men,  he  stood  confessedly  the 
greatest;  and  while  the  efforts  and  the  eloquence  of  his 
contemporaries  were  directed  to  overcome  mere  tempora- 
ry emergencies,  Burke  contemplated  the  nobler  achieve- 
ment of  vindicating  unanswerably  the  true  principles  of 
enlightened  government,  and  bequeathing  to  posterity 
the  knowledge  by  which  future  errors  might  be  avoided, 
and  future  difficulties  overcome. 

It  is  this  loftiness  of  purpose  which  constitutes  the 
leading  distinction  of  Burke,  when  compared  with  con^ 


BURKE.  267 

temporary  or  succeeding  statesmen.  They  spoke  for 
the  present;  he  for  all  limes,  present  and  future.  Their 
wisdom  was  directed  to  meet  the  immediate  perils  and 
exigencies  of  the  state;  his  to  establish  great  and  memo- 
rable principles,  by  which  all  perils  and  all  difficulties 
might  be  successfully  encountered.  The  consequence 
has  been,  that  while  their  words  have  passed  away,  his 
endure,  and  exert  a  permanent  and  increasing  influence 
on  the  intellect  of  mankind.  Who  now  resorts  for  les- 
sons in  political  wisdom  to  the  speeches  of  North,  or 
Chatham,  or  Pitt,  or  Fox?  but  where  is  the  statesman 
who  would  venture  to  profess  himself  unread  in  those 
of  Burke? 

That  the  opinions  of  this  great  political  philosopher 
were  sometimes  erroneous  may  be  admitted,  yet  it  may 
truly  be  said  that  they  Were  never  founded  on  mere  nar- 
row views  of  temporary  expediency,  and  that  his  errors 
were  uniformly  those  of  a  grand  and  glorious  intellect, 
scarcely  less  splendid  in  failure  than  in  triumph. 

The  nature  of  the  connexion  which  ought  to  exist  be- 
tween the  representative  and  his  constituents,  and  the 
duties  it  imposes,  are  finely  illustrated  in  the  final  ad- 
dress of  Burke  to  the  electors  of  Bristol.  It  were  well 
if  the  people,  both  of  England  and  America,  would 
read,  mark,  learn,  and  inwardly  digest  the  following  no- 
ble passages,  not  more  remarkable  for  their  wisdom  and 
eloquence,  than  for  their  tone  of  dignified  independence, 

"It  is  the  duty  of  the  representative,7'  says  this  me- 
morable man,  "to  sacrifice  his  repose,  his  pleasures,  his 
satisfactions,  to  his  constituents.  But  his  unbiassed 
opinion,  his  mature  judgment,  his  enlightened  con- 
science, he  ought  not  to  sacrifice  to  you,  to  any  man, 
or  any  set  of  men  living.  They  are  a  trust  from 
Providence,  for  the  abuse  of  which  he  is  deeply  an- 
swerable. Your  representative  owes  you,  not  his  in- 
dustry only,  but  his  judgment,  and  HE  BETRAYS  IN- 
STEAD OF  SERVING  YOU  if  he  sacrifice  it  to  your  opi<- 
nion." 

Again. 

"If  government  were  a  matter  of  will  upon  any  side» 
yours,  without  question,  ought  to  be  superior.  But  go- 
vernment and  legislation  are  matters  of  reason  and  judg* 


268  ELECTION  OF  PRESIDENT. 

ment,  not  of  inclination.  And  what  sort  of  reason  is 
that,  in  which  the.  determination  precedes  the  discus- 
sion; in  which  one  set  of  men  deliberate  and  another 
decide;  and  where  those  who  form  the  conclusion  are 
perhaps  three  hundred  miles  distant  from  those  who 
hear  the  arguments?" 

Once  more. 

"Authoritative  instructions,  mandates,  which  the 
member  is  bound  blindly  and  implicitly  to  obey;  these 
are  things  unknown  to  the  laws  of  this  land,  and 
ivhich  arise  from  A  FUNDAMENTAL  MISTAKE  OF  THE  WHOLE 
ORDER  AND  TENOR  OF  OUR  CONSTITUTION.  Parliament  is 
not  a  Congress  of  Ambassadors  from  different  states, 
and  with  hostile  interests,  which  interests  each  must 
maintain  as  an  agent  against  other  agents;  but  Par- 
liament is  a  deliberate  assembly  of  ONE  nation,  with 
ONE  interest,  and  that  of  the  whole.  You  choose  a 
member,  indeed;  but  when  you  have  chosen  him,  he  ia 
not  a  member  for  Bristol,  but  he  is  a  member  of  Par- 
liament.7' 

There  is  another  evil  connected  with  the  practical 
working  of  the  constitution,  to  which  I  feel  it  necessary 
briefly  to  advert.  The  election  of  the  President  affects 
so  many  interests  and  partialities,  and  appeals  so  strongly 
to  the  passions  of  the  people,  that  it  is  uniformly  attend- 
ed with  a  very  injurious  disturbance  of  the  public  tran- 
quillity. The  session  of  Congress  immediately  preceding 
the  election,  is  chiefly  occupied  by  the  manoeuvres  of 
both  parties  to  gain  some  advantage  for  their  favourite 
candidate.  The  quantity  of  invective  expended  on  men 
and  measures  is  enormously  increased.  The  ordinary 
business  of  the  country  is  neglected.  Motions  are  made, 
and  inquiries  gone  into,  in  the  mere  hope  that  something 
may  be  discovered  which  party  zeal  may  convert  into  a 
weapon  of  attack  or  defence.  In  short,  the  legislature  of 
a  great  nation  is  resolved  into  electioneering  committees 
of  rival  candidates  for  the  Presidency. 

Without  doors,  the  contest  is  no  less  keen.  From  one 
extremity  of  the  Union  to  the  other,  the  political  war 
slogan  is  sounded.  No  quarter  is  given  on  either  side. 
Every  printing-press  in  the  United  States  is  engaged  in 
the  conflict.  Reason,  justice,  charity,  the  claims  of  age 


GOVERNOR  CLINTON'S  MESSAGE.  269 

and  of  past  services,  of  high  talents  and  unspotted  in- 
tegrity, are  forgotten.  No  lie  is  too  malignant  to  be  em- 
ployed in  this  unhallowed  contest,  if  it  can  but  serve  the 
purpose  of  deluding,  even  for  a  moment,  the  most  igno- 
rant of  mankind.  No  insinuation  is  too  base,  no  equivo- 
cation too  mean,  no  artifice  too  paltry.  The  world  af- 
fords no  parallel  to  the  scene  of  political  depravity  exhi- 
bited periodically  in  this  free  country. 

In  England  I  know  it  will  be  believed  that  this  picture 
is  overcharged,  that  it  is  utterly  impossible  that  any  Chris- 
tian community  can  be  disgraced  by  scenes  of  such  ap- 
palling atrocity.  It  may  be  supposed,  too,  that  in  getting 
up  materials  for  the  charge,  I  have  been  compelled  to  go 
back  to  the  earlier  period  of  the  constitution,  to  the  days 
of  Adams  and  Jefferson,  when  the  struggle  of  men  was 
the  struggle  of  great  principles,  and  the  people  were  yet 
young  and  unpractised  in  the  enjoyment  of  that  liberty 
which  they  had  so  bravely  earned. 

Of  either  hypothesis,  1  regret  to  say  that  it  is  more 
charitable  than  true.  1  speak  not  of  the  United  States 
as  they  were,  but  as  they  are.  Let  the  moral  character 
of  the  past  generation  of  Americans  rest  with  them  undis- 
turbed in  their  graves.  Our  business  at  present  is  with 
living  men,  and  it  is  these  who  are  now  charged,  not  by 
me,  but  by  roriters  of  their  own  age  and  country,  with  the  of- 
fences I  have  ventured  to  describe. 

" Party  spirit"  says  the  late  Governor  Clinton,  in  his 
annual  message  to  the  legislature  in  1828,  quoted  by  Cap- 
tain Hall,  "  has  entered  the  recesses  of  retirement,  violated  the 
sanctity  of  female  character,  invaded  the  tranquillity  of  pri- 
vate life,  and  •visited,  with  severe  inflictions,  the  peace  of  fa- 
milies. Neither  elevation  nor  humility  has  been  spared,  nor 
the  charities  of  life,  nor  distinguished  public  services,  nor  the 
Jireside,  nor  the  altar,  been  left  free  from  attack;  but  a  licen- 
tious and  destroying  spirit  has  gone  forth,  regardless  of  every 
thing,  but  the  gratification  of  malignant  feelings,  and  un- 
worthy aspirations.  The  causes  of  this  portentous  mischief 
must  be  found,  in  a  great  measure,  in  the  incompetent 
and  injudicious  provisions,  relative  to  the  office  of  chief 
magistrate  of  the  Union." 

In  the  American  Annual  Register,  published  at  New 
York,  for  the  years  1828  and  1829,  a  work  of  great  me- 


270  AMERICAN  ANNUAL  REGISTER. 

rit  and  impartiality,  the  editor,  in  narrating  the  circum- 
stances of  the  last  Presidential  election,  thus  writes : — 

"  Topics  were  introduced  tending  still  more  to  inflame 
the  public  mind,  and  to  prevent  it  from  forming  an  unbi- 
assed judgment  upon  continuing  the  existing  policy  of  the 
country.  In  the  excited  state  of  popular  feeling,  the  cha- 
racter and  services  of  both  candidates  were  overlooked ; 
and  even  Congress,  in  more  instances  than  one,  by  a  party 
vote,  manifested  that  it  had  forgotten  that  some  respect 
was  due  to  the  high  and  honourable  station  held  by  one 
of  the  candidates. 

"  The  example  Ihus  given  by  men  from  whose  charac- 
ter and  station  better  things  might  have  been  expected, 
was  not  without  its  effect  upon  the  community.  In  con- 
ducting the  political  discussions  which  folloiced  the  adjourn- 
ment of  Congress,  both  truth  and  propriety  were  set  at 
defiance.  The  decencies  of  private  life  were  disregarded; 
conversations  and  correspondence  'which  should  have  been 
confidential  were  brought  before  the  public  eye  ;  the  ruthless 
warfare  was  carried  into  the  bosom  of  domestic  life;  neither 
age  nor  sex  was  spared;  the  dnily  press  teemed  with  ribaldry 
and  falsehood ;  and  even  the  tomb  was  not  held  sacred  from 
'the  rancorous  hostility  which  distinguished  the  presidential 
election  of  1828." 

1  shall  certainly  not  endeavour,  by  any  observations 
of  my  own,  to  heighten  the  sentiment  of  disgust  which 
such  extraordinary  revelations  are  calculated  to  excite. 
If  I  know  my  own  motives,  I  allude  to  them  at  all,  not 
with  the  contemptible  and  unworthy  object  of  lowering 
the  character  of  the  American  people  in  the  eyes  of  my 
countrymen  ;  not  to  afford  a  paltry  triumph  to  those  in 
whose  eyes  freedom  is  a  crime,  and  despotism  a  virtue ; 
but  because  it  is  due  to  truth  and  justice,  and  nearly 
concerns  the  political  welfare  of  other  nations,  that  the 
practical  results  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States 
should  be  known. 

In  all  previous  experience,  an  elective  chief  magistracy 
— it  matters  not  whether  the  object  of  contention  be  the 
throne  of  a  King,  or  the  chair  of  a  President — has  been 
found  incompatible  with  the  peace  and  welfare  of  a  com- 
munity. The  object  is  too  high  and  spirit-stirring;  it 
appeals  too  strongly  to  the  hopes  and  passions  of  men;  it 


EVILS  OF  AN  ELECTIVE  CHIEF  MAGISTRACY.     271 

affects  too  many  interests,  not  to  lead  to  the  employment 
of  every  available  instrument  for  its  attainment.  In 
some  circumstances  the  contest  is  decided  by  physical 
force  ;  in  others,  by  falsehood,  calumny,  and  those  arti- 
fices by  which  cunning  can  impose  upon  ignorance. 
Blood  flows  in  the  one  case,  and  the  land  is  desolated  by 
civil  war ;  character,  moral  dignity,  and  the  holiest 
charities  of  life,  are  sacrificed  in  the  other. 

One  thing  is  certain.  In  the  United  States  the  ex- 
periment of  an  elective  executive  has  been  tried  under 
the  most  favourable  circumstances.  The  population  is 
diffused  over  a  vast  extent  of  surface,  and,  therefore,  less 
subject  to  be  influenced  by  those  delusions  and  impulses 
by  which  masses  of  men  are  liable  to  be  misled.  There 
exists  in  America  no  great  and  absorbing  question  of 
principle  or  policy,  by  which  the  feelings  or  the  pre- 
judices of  men  are  violently  excited.  On  the  contrary, 
the  general  character  of  public  measures  has  long  ceased 
to  furnish  any  broad  or  distinct  grounds  of  dispute;  and 
the  contest,  however  vehement,  has  been  that  of  rival 
politicians,  rather  than  of  contending  principles.  More- 
over, in  the  United  States,  a  class  of  men  condemned  by 
uncontrollable  causes  to  the  sufferings  of  abject  poverty, 
is  unknown.  The  means  of  subsistence  are  profusely 
spread  every  where,  and  the  temptations  to  crime  com- 
paratively small.  Let  it  be  remembered,  therefore,  that 
it  is  under  such  circumstances,  and  among  a  people  so 
situated,  that  the  experiment  of  periodically  electing  the 
chief  officer  of  the  commonwealth  has  been  tried  and 
failed. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  while  confessing  the  grossness 
of  the  failure,  many  Americans  would  willingly  attribute 
it  to  the  injudicious  provisions  for  the  collection  of  the 
national  suffrage.  But  the  evil  lies  deeper.  However 
the  electoral  body  may  be  formed,  an  abundant  field 
must  always  be  left  for  the  exercise  of  trickery  and  in- 
trigue. The  passions  and  prejudices  of  men  must  always 
be  too  deeply  interested  in  the  distribution  of  this  high 
patronage  for  the  continuance  of  public  tranquillity, 
blander,  calumny,  and  the  thousands  atrocities  which 
have  hitherto  disgraced  the  presidential  elections,  will 
continue  to  burst  their  floodgates,  and  spread  contamina* 


272  SUPREME  COURT. 

tion  through  the  land;  and  should  a  period  of  strong 
political  excitement  arrive,  when  men  shall  be  arrayed, 
not  in  demonstration  of  mere  personal  partialities,  but  in 
support  of  conflicting  principles  connected  with  their  im- 
mediate interests,  I  confess,  that  I,  at  least,  can  find  no- 
thing in  the  American  Constitution,  on  which  to  rest  a 
hope  for  its  permanence. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WASHINGTON. 

IN  the  basement  story  of  one  of  the  wings  of  the  Ca- 
pitol, is  the  hall  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States.  It  is,  by  no  means,  a  large  or  handsome  apart- 
ment; and  the  lowness  of  the  ceiling,  and  the  circum- 
stance of  its  being  under  ground,  give  it  a  certain  cellar- 
like  aspect,  which  is  not  pleasant.  This  is,  perhaps,  un- 
fortunate, because  it  tends  to  create  in  the  spectator,  the 
impression  of  justice  being  done  in  a  corner;  and,  that, 
while  the  business  of  legislation  is  carried  on  with  all 
the  pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  glorious  debate, 
in  halls  adorned  with  all  the  skill  of  the  architect,  the 
administration  of  men's  rights  is  considered  an  affair  of 
secondary  importance. 

Though  the  American  law  courts  are  no  longer  conta- 
minated by  wigs,  yet  the  partiality  for  robes  would  ap- 
pear not  yet  to  be  wholly  extinct.  The  judges  of  the 
Supreme  Court  wear  black  Geneva  gowns;  and  the  pro- 
ceedings of  this  tribunal  are  conducted  with  a  degree  of 
propriety,  both  judicial  and  forensic,  which  leaves  no- 
thing to  be  desired.  I  certainly  witnessed  none  of  those 
violations  of  public  decency,  which,  in  the  State  Courts, 
are  matters  of  ordinary  occurrence.  There  was  no 
lounging  either  at  the  bar  or  on  the  bench;  nor  was  it, 
apparently,  considered  necessary  to  sink  the  gentleman 
in  the  lawyer,  and  assume  a  deportment  in  the  discharge 
of  professional  duty  which  would  not  be  tolerated  in  pri- 
vate society. 


JURISDICTION  OF  SUPREME  COURT.  273 

The  Supreme  Court  consists  of  seven  judges,  remova- 
ble only  by  impeachment,  and  possesses  a  federal  juris- 
diction over  the  whole  Union.  It  sits  annually  in  Wash- 
ington for  about  two  months,  and  is  alone  competent  to 
decide  on  questions  connected  with  the  constitution  or 
laws  of  the  United  States.  Though  possessing  original 
jurisdiction  in  a  few  cases,  its  chief  duties  consist  in  the 
exercise  of  an  appellate  jurisdiction  from  the  Circuit 
Courts,  which  are  held  twice  a  year  in  the  different 
states. 

It  would  be  tedious  to  enumerate  the  various  cases  in 
which  the  Federal  Courts,  in  their  three  gradations  of 
Supreme,  Circuit,  and  District,  exercise  an  exclusive  or 
concurrent  jurisdiction.  It  is  enough  that  it  should  be 
generally  understood  that  the  Supreme  Court  is  the  sole 
expounder  of  the  written  constitution;  and  when  we  con- 
sider how  open  this  important  instrument  has  been 
proved  to  diversity  of  interpretation,  what  opposite 
meanings  have  been  put  upon  its  simplest  clauses,  and, 
in  short,  that  the  Constitution  is  precisely  whatever  four 
judges  of  this  court  may  choose  to  make  it,  it  will  be 
seen  how  vitally  important  is  the  power  with  which  it 
has  been  intrusted,  and  how  difficult  must  be  its  exer- 
cise. 

But  the  difficulties  of  the  Supreme  Court  do  not  end 
here.  Its  jurisdiction  extends  not  over  a  homogeneous 
population,  but  a  variety  of  distinct  communities,  born 
under  different  laws,  and  adopting  different  forms  in  their 
administration. 

Causes  before  the  State  Courts,  in  which  the  laws  of 
the  United  States  are  even  collaterally  involved,  are  re- 
movable by  writ  of  error  to  the  Supreme  Federal  Court, 
and  the  decision  of  the  State  Court  may  be  affirmed  or 
reversed.  In  the  latter  case,  a  mandate  is  issued  direct- 
ing the  State  Court  to  conform  its  judgment  to  that  of 
the  Supreme  Court.  But  the  State  tribunal  is  at  perfect 
liberty  to  disregard  the  mandate,  should  it  think  proper; 
for  the  principle  is  established,  that  no  one  court  can 
command  another,  but  in  virtue  of  an  authority  resting 
on  express  stipulation,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  each  judica- 
ture to  decide  how  far  this  authority  has  been  constitu- 
tionally exercised. 

35 


274  LAWYERS  OF  SUPREME  COURT. 

Then  the  legislatures  of  different  States  have  found  it 
occasionally  convenient  to  pass  laws  for  the  purpose  of 
defrauding  their  foreign  creditors,  while,  in  the  case  of 
Great  Britain  at  least,  the  federal  government  is  bound 
by  express  treaty  that  no  lawful  impediment  shall  be  in- 
terposed to  the  recovery  of  the  debts  due  by  American 
citizens  to  British  subjects.  Under  such  circumstances, 
the  Federal  Court,  backed  by  the  whole  honest  portion 
of  the  people,  certainly  succeeded  in  putting  a  stop  to 
the  organized  system  of  State  swindling  adopted  by  Ken- 
tucky after  the  late  war;  but  awkward  circumstances  oc- 
curred, and  the  question  may  yet  be  considered  practi- 
cally undecided,  whether  the  State  legislatures  possess  a 
controlling  power  over  the  execution  of  a  judgment  of 
the  Supreme  Court. 

Should  a  case  occur,  as  is  far  from  improbable,  in 
which  the  federal  legislature  and  judiciary  are  at  variance, 
it  would,  no  doubt,  be  the  duty  of  the  latter  to  declare 
every  unconstitutional  act  of  the  former  null  and  void. 
But  under  any  circumstances,  the  Court  has  no  power 
of  enforcing  its  decrees.  For  instance,  let  us  take  the 
Indian  question,  and  suppose,  that  in  defiance  of  treaties, 
Georgia  should  persist  in  declaring  the  Creek  and  Che- 
rokee Indians  subject  to  the  State  laws,  in  order  to  force 
them  to  migrate  beyond  the  Mississippi.  The  Indians 
appeal  to  the  Supreme  Court,  and  demand  protection 
from  unprincipled  violence.  The  Court  recognises  their 
rights,  and  issues  its  mandate,  which  is  just  so  much 
waste  paper,  unless  the  Government  choose  to  send  a 
military  force  along  with  it,  which  neither  the  present 
Congress  nor  executive  would  be  inclined  to  do. 

With  all  its  sources  of  weakness,  however,  the  United 
States  Court  is  a  wise  institution.  It  is  truly  the  sheet- 
anchor  of  the  Union;  and  the  degree  of  respect  in  which 
its  decrees  are  held,  may  be  considered  as  an  exact  index 
of  the  moral  strength  of  the  compact  by  which  the  dis- 
cordant elements  of  the  federal  commonwealth  are  held 
together. 

The  most  distinguished  lawyers  of  the  Union  practise 
in  the  Supreme  Court,  and  I  had  there  an  opportunity 
of  hearing  many  of  the  more  eminent  members  of  Con- 
gress. During  my  stay,  there  was  no  Jury  trial,  and  the 


VISIT  TO  THE  PRESIDENT.  375 

proceedings  of  the  Court  consisted  chiefly  in  delivering 
judgments,  and  in  listening  to  legal  arguments  from  the 
bar.  The  tone  of  the  speeches  was  certainly  very  dif- 
ferent from  any  thing  I  had  heard  in  Congress.  The 
lawyers  seemed  to  keep  their  declamation  for  the  House 
of  Representatives,  and  in  the  Supreme  Court  spoke 
clearly,  logically,  and  to  the  point.  Indeed,  I  was  more 
than  once  astonished  to  hear  men  whose  speeches  in 
Congress  were  rambling  and  desultory,  in  an  extreme 
degree,  display  in  their  forensic  addresses,  great  legal 
acuteness,  and  resources  of  argument  and  illustration  of 
the  first  order.  In  addressing  the  bench,  they  seemed 
to  cast  the  slough  of  their  vicious  peculiarities,  and  spoke, 
not  like  schoolboys  contending  for  a  prize,  but  like  men 
of  high  intellectual  powers,  solicitous  not  to  dazzle  but 
to  convince. 

A  few  days  after  the  interview  already  mentioned,  I 
received  the  honour  of  an  invitation  to  dine  with  the  Pre- 
sident. It  unfortunately  happened,  that,  on  the  day  in- 
dicated, I  was  already  engaged  to  a  party  at  Mr.  Van. 
Buren's;  and  on  inquiring  the  etiquette  on  such  occasions, 
I  was  informed  that  an  invitation  from  the  President  was 
not  held  to  authorize  any  breach  of  engagement  to  the 
leading  member  of  the  cabinet.  The  President,  how- 
ever, having  politely  intimated  that  he  received  company 
every  evening,  I  ventured,  along  with  a  distinguished 
member  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  to  present  my- 
self, on  one  occasion,  at  the  "  White  House."* 

We  found  the  President  had  retired  with  a  headach, 
hut  in  a  few  minutes  he  appeared,  though  from  the  hea- 
viness of  his  eye,  evidently  in  a  state  of  considerable 
pain.  This,  however,  had  no  influence  on  his  conversa- 
tion, which  was  spirited,  and  full  of  vivacity.  He  in- 
formed us  that  he  had  been  unwell  for  several  days,  and 
having  the  fatigues  of  a  levee  to  encounter  on  the  follow- 
ing evening,  he  had  retired  early,  in  order  to  recruit  for 
an  occasion  which  required  the  presence  of  all  his  bodily 
powers.  When  this  subject  was  dismissed,  the  conver- 
sation turned  on  native  politics,  the  Indian  question,  the 
powers  of  the  Supreme  Court,  and  a  recent  debate  in  the 
Senate,  which  had  excited  considerable  attention. 

*  The  President's  house  is  very  generally  so  designated  in  Wash- 
ington. 


276  PRESIDENT'S  LEVEE. 

Of  the  opinions  expressed  by  this  distinguished  per- 
son, it  would  be  unpardonable  were  I  to  say  any  thing; 
but  I  heard  them  with  deep  interest,  and  certainly  con- 
sidered them  to  be  marked  by  that  union  of  boldness  and 
sagacity,  which  is  generally  supposed  to  form  a  promi- 
nent feature  of  his  character.  General  Jackson  spoke 
like  a  man  so  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  justice  of  his 
views,  that  he  announced  them  unhesitatingly  and  with- 
out reserve.  This  openness  might  be  increased,  perhaps, 
by  the  knowledge  of  my  companion  being  a  decided  sup- 
porter of  his  government;  but  sincerity  is  so  legible  both 
in  his  countenance  and  manner,  that  I  feel  convinced  that 
nothing  but  the  strongest  motives  of  state  policy  could 
make  him  hesitate,  under  any  circumstances,  to  express 
boldly  what  he  felt  strongly. 

On  the  following  evening  I  attended  the  levee.  The 
apartments  were  already  full  before  I  arrived,  and  the 
crowd  extended  even  into  the  hall.  Three — I  am  not 
sure  that  there  were  not  four — large  saloons  were  thrown 
open  on  the  occasion,  and  were  literally  crammed  with 
the  most  singular  and  miscellaneous  assemblage  I  had 
ever  seen. 

The  numerical  majority  of  the  company  seemed  of  the 
class  of  tradesmen  or  farmers,  respectable  men,  fresh  from 
the  plough  or  the  counter,  who,  accompanied  by  their 
wives  and  daughters,  came  forth  to  greet  their  President, 
and  enjoy  the  splendours  of  the  gala.  There  were  also 
generals,  and  commodores,  and  public  officers  of  every 
description,  and  foreign  ministers  and  members  of  Con- 
gress, and  ladies  of  all  ages  and  degrees  of  beauty,  from 
the  fair  and  laughing  girl  of  fifteen,  to  the  haggard  dow- 
ager of  seventy.  There  were  majors  in  broad  cloth  and 
corduroys,  redolent  of  gin  and  tobacco,  and  majors'  la- 
dies in  chintz  or  russet,  with  huge  Paris  ear-rings,  and 
tawny  necks,  profusely  decorated  with  beads  of  coloured 
glass.  There  were  tailors  from  the  board,  and  judges 
from  the  bench;  lawyers  who  opened  their  mouths  at  one 
bar,  and  the  tapster  who  closed  them  at  another; — in 
short,  every  trade,  craft,  calling,  and  profession,  ap- 
peared to  have  sent  its  delegates  to  this  extraordinary 
convention. 

For  myself,  I  had  seen  too  much  of  the  United  States 
to  expect  any  thing  very  different,  and  certainly  antici- 


PRESIDENT'S  LEVEE.  277 

pated  that  the  mixture  would  contain  all  the  ingredients 
I  have  ventured  to  describe.  Yet,  after  all,  I  was  taken 
by  surprise.  There  were  present  at  this  levee,  men  be- 
grimed with  all  the  sweat  and  filth  accumulated  in  their 
day's — perhaps  their  week's — labour.  There  were  sooty 
artificers,  evidently  fresh  from  the  forge  or  the  work- 
shop; and  one  individual,  I  remember — either  a  miller 
or  a  baker — who,  wherever  he  passed,  left  marks  of  con- 
tact on  the  garments  of  the  company.  The  most  promi- 
nent group,  however,  in  the  assemblage,  was  a  party  of 
Irish  labourers,  employed  on  some  neighbouring  canal, 
who  had  evidently  been  apt  scholars  in  the  doctrine  of 
liberty  and  equality,  and  were  determined,  on  the  present 
occasion,  to  assert  the  full  privileges  of  "the  great  un- 
washed." I  remarked  these  men  pushing  aside  the  more 
respectable  portion  of  the  company  with  a  certain  jocu- 
lar audacity,  which  put  one  in  mind  of  the  humours  of 
Donnybrook. 

A  party,  composed  of  the  materials  I  have  described, 
could  possess  but  few  attractions.  The  heat  of  the  apart- 
ment was  very  great,  and  the  odours — certainly  not  Sa- 
baean — which  occasionally  affected  the  nostrils,  were  more 
pungent  than  agreeable.  I,  therefore,  pushed  on  in 
search  of  the  President,  in  order  that,  having  paid  my 
respects  in  acknowledgment  of  a  kindness  for  which  I 
really  felt  grateful,  I  might  be  at  liberty  to  depart.  My 
progress,  however,  was  slow,  for  the  company  in  the  ex- 
terior saloons  were  wedged  together  in  a  dense  mass,  pe- 
netrable only  at  occasional  intervals.  I  looked  every 
where  for  the  President  as  I  passed,  but  without  success, 
but,  at  length,  a  friend,  against  whom  I  happened  to  be 
jostled,  informed  me  that  I  should  find  him  at  the  extre- 
mity of  the  most  distant  apartment. 

The  information  was  correct.  There  stood  the  Presi- 
dent, whose  looks  still  indicated  indisposition,  paying 
one  of  the  severest  penalties  of  greatness;  compelled  to 
talk  when  he  had  nothing  to  say,  and  shake  hands  with 
men  whose  very  appearance  suggested  the  precaution  of 
a  glove.  I  must  say,  however,  that  under  these  unplea- 
sant circumstances,  he  bore  himself  well  and  gracefully. 
His  countenance  expressed  perfect  good-humour;  and  his 
manner  to  the  ladies  was  so  full  of  well-bred  gallantry, 


278  OBSERVATIONS. 

that  having,  as  I  make  no  doubt,  the  great  majority  of 
the  fair  sex  on  his  side,  the  chance  of  his  being  unseated 
at  the  next  election  must  be  very  small. 

I  did  not,  however,  remain  long  a  spectator  of  the  scene. 
Having  gone  through  the  ordinary  ceremonial,  I  scram- 
bled out  of  the  crowd  the  best  way  I  could,  and  bade  fare- 
well to  the  most  extraordinary  scene  it  had  ever  been  my 
fortune  to  witness.  It  is  only  fair  to  state,  however  that 
during  my  stay  in  Washington,  I  never  heard  the  Pre- 
sident's levee  mentioned  in  company  without  an  ex- 
pression of  indignant  feeling  on  the  part  of  the  ladies,  at 
the  circumstances  I  have  narrated.  To  the  better  order 
of  Americans,  indeed,  it  cannot  but  be  painful  that  their 
wives  and  daughters  should  thus  be  compelled  to  mingle 
with  the  very  lowest  of  the  people.  Yet  the  evil,  what- 
ever may  be  its  extent,  is,  in  truth,  the  necessary  result 
of  a  form  of  government  essentially  democratic.  Where- 
ever  universal  suffrage  prevails,  the  people  are,  and  must 
be,  the  sole  depository  of  political  power.  The  Ameri- 
can President  well  knows  that  his  only  chance  of  conti- 
nuance in  office,  consists  in  his  conciliating  the  favour  of 
the  lowest — and,  therefore,  most  numerous — order  of  his 
constituents.  The  rich  and  intelligent  are  a  small  mi- 
nority, and  their  opinion  he  may  despise.  The  poor, 
the  uneducated,  are,  in  every  country,  the  people.  It  is 
to  them  alone  that  a  public  man  in  America  can  look  for 
the  gratification  of  his  ambition.  They  are  the  ladder 
by  which  he  must  mount,  or  be  content  to  stand  on  a 
level  with  his  fellow-men. 

Under  such  circumstances,  it  is  impossible  there  should 
be  any  exclusion  of  the  real  governors  of  the  country 
wherever  they  may  think  proper  to  intrude.  General 
Jackson  is  quite  aware,  that  the  smallest  demonstration 
of  disrespect  even  to  the  meanest  mechanic,  might  incur 
the  loss  of  his  popularity  in  a  whole  neighbourhood.  It 
is  evident,  too,  that  the  class  in  actual  possession  of  the 
political  patronage  of  a  community  is,  in  effect,  whatever 
be  their  designation,  the  first  class  in  the  state.  In 
America,  this  influence  belongs  to  the  poorest  and  least 
educated.  Wealth  and  intelligence  are  compelled  to  bend 
to  poverty  and  ignorance,  to  adopt  their  prejudices,  to 
copy  their  manners,  to  submit  to  their  government.  In 


SLAVERY  IN  WASHINGTON.  279 

short,  the  order  of  reason  and  common  sense  is  precisely 
inverted;  and  while  the  roots  of  the  political  tree  are 
waving  in  the  air,  its  branches  are  buried  in  the  ground. 

During  the  time  I  was  engaged  at  the  levee,  my  ser- 
vant remained  in  the  hall  through  which  lay  the  entrance 
to  the  apartments  occupied  by  the  company,  and  on  the 
day  following  he  gave  me  a  few  details  of  a  scene  some- 
what extraordinary,  but  sufficiently  characteristic  to  me- 
rit record.  It  appeared  that  the  refreshments  intended 
for  the  company,  consisting  of  punch  and  lemonade, 
were  brought  by  the  servants,  with  the  intention  of  reach- 
ing the  interior  saloon.  No  sooner,  however,  were  these 
ministers  of  Bacchus  descried  to  be  approaching  by  a 
portion  of  the  company,  than  a  rush  was  made  from 
within,  the  whole  contents  of  the  trays  were  seized  in 
transitu,  by  a  sort  of  coup-de-main;  and  the  bearers 
having  thus  rapidly  achieved  the  distribution  of  their  re- 
freshments, had  nothing  for  it  but  to  return  for  a  fresh 
supply.  This  was  brought,  and  quite  as  compendiously 
despatched,  and  it  at  length  became  apparent,  that,  with- 
out resorting  to  some  extraordinary  measures,  it  would 
be  impossible  to  accomplish  the  intended  voyage,  and 
the  more  respectable  portion  of  the  company  would  be 
suffered  to  depart  with  dry  palates,  and  in  utter  igno- 
rance of  the  extent  of  the  hospitality  to  which  they  were 
indebted. 

The  butler,  however,  was  an  Irishman,  and,  in  order 
to  baffle  farther  attempts  at  intercepting  the  supplies,  had 
recourse  to  an  expedient  marked  by  all  the  ingenuity  of 
his  countrymen.  He  procured  an  escort,  armed  them 
with  sticks,  and,  on  his  next  advance,  these  men  kept 
flourishing  their  shillelahs  around  the  trays,  with  such 
alarming  vehemence,  that  the  predatory  horde,  who  an- 
ticipated a  repetition  of  their  plunder,  were  scared  from 
their  prey,  and,  amid  a  scene  of  execrations  and  laughter, 
the  refreshments  thus  guarded,  accomplished  their  jour- 
ney to  the  saloon  in  safety! 

Washington,  the  seat  of  government  of  a  free  people, 
is  disgraced  by  slavery.  The  waiters  in  the  hotels,  the 
servants  in  private  families,  and  many  of  the  lower  class 
of  artisans,  are  slaves.  While  the  orators  in  Congress 
are  rounding  periods  about  liberty  in  one  part  of  the  city, 


280  AMERICAN  INCONSISTENCY. 

proclaiming,  alto  voce,  that  all  men  are  equal,  and  that 
"resistance  to  tyrants  is  obedience  to  God,"  the  auc- 
tioneer is  exposing  human  flesh  to  sale  in  another!  I 
remember  a  gifted  gentleman  in  the  Representatives, 
who,  in  speaking  of  the  Senate,  pronounced  it  to  be  "  the 
most  enlightened;  the  most  august,  and  most  imposing 
body  in  the  world!"  In  regard  to  the  extent  of  imposi- 
tion, I  shall  not  speak;  but  it  so  happened  that  the  day 
was  one  of  rain,  and  the  effect  of  the  eulogium  was  a 
good  deal  injured  by  recollecting  that,  an  hour  or  two 
before,  the  members  of  this  enlightened  and  august  body 
were  driven  to  the  Capitol  by  slave  coachmen,  who 
were  at  that  very  moment  waiting  to  convey  them  back, 
when  the  rights  of  man  had  been  sufficiently  disserted 
on  for  the  day. 

I  trust  I  do  not  write  on  this  painful  subject  in  an  in- 
sulting spirit.  That  slavery  should  exist  in  the  United 
States  is  far  less  the  fault  than  the  misfortune  of  the  peo- 
ple. The  present  generation  were  born  with  the  curse 
upon  them;  they  are  the  involuntary  inheritors  of  a 
patrimony  of  guilt  and  misery,  and  are  condemned  to 
pay  the  penalty  of  that  original  sin,  which  has  left  a  deep 
tarnish  on  the  memory  of  our  common  ancestors.  But, 
that  slavery  should  exist  in  the  district  of  Columbia,  that 
even  the  foot-print  of  a  slave  should  be  suffered  to  con- 
taminate the  soil  peculiarly  consecrated  to  Freedom,  that 
the  very  shrine  of  the  Goddess  should  be  polluted  by  the 
presence  of  chains  and  fetters,  is  perhaps  the  most  extra- 
ordinary and  monstrous  anomaly  to  which  human  incon- 
sistency— a  prolific  mother — has  given  birth. 

The  man  who  would  study  the  contradictions  of  in- 
dividual and  national  character,  and  learn  by  how  wide 
an  interval,  profession  may  be  divided  from  performance, 
should  come  to  Washington.  He  will  there  read  a  new 
page  in  the  volume  of  human  nature;  he  will  observe 
how  compatible  is  the  extreme  of  physical  liberty,  with 
bondage  of  the  understanding.  He  will  hear  the  words 
of  freedom,  and  he  will  see  the  practice  of  slavery.  Men 
who  sell  their  fellow-creatures  will  discourse  to  him  of 
indefeasible  rights;  the  legislators,  who  truckle  to  a  mob, 
will  stun  him  with  professions  of  independence;  he  will 
be  taught  the  affinity  between  the  democrat  and  the  ty- 


PORTRAITS  OF  INDIAN  CHIEFS.  281 

rant ;  he  will  look  for  charters,  and  find  manacles ;  expect 
liberality,  and  be  met  by  bigotry  and  prejudice ; — in  short, 
he  will  probably  return  home  a  wiser,  if  not  a  better  man, 
— more  patient  of  inevitable  evils, — more  grateful  for  the 
blessing  he  enjoys, — better  satisfied  with  his  own  country 
and  government, — and  less  disposed  to  sacrifice  the  present 
good  for  a  contingent  better. 

In  Washington,  there  is  little  to  be  done  in  the  way  of 
sight-seeing.  There  is  a  theatre,  which  I  was  too  much 
occupied  to  visit.  The  churches  have  nothing  about 
them  to  attract  observation.  The  patent  office  contains 
models  of  all  the  mechanical  inventions  of  this  ingenious 
people,  and  their  number  is  more  remarkable  than  their 
value.  In  a  thinly  peopled  country,  men  are  thrown 
upon  their  individual  resources.  Where  labour  cannot  be 
commanded,  it  is  natural  they  should  endeavour  to  strike 
out  contrivances  by  which  it  may  be  economized.  The 
misfortune  is,  that  each  man,  being  ignorant  of  what  has 
been  effected  by  others,  finds  it  necessary  to  begin  de  novo. 
He  invents,  takes  out  a  patent,  and  then  probably  disco- 
vers that  the  same  thing  had  been  better  done  before. 

In  the  Secretary  of  State's  office,  is  an  apartment  con- 
taining portraits  of  all  the  Indian  chiefs  who  have  visited 
Washington.  The  portraits  are  ill  executed,  but  full  of 
character ;  and  the  collection  is  interesting,  as  exhibiting 
the  last  and  only  memorial  of  men,  great  in  their  genera- 
tion, but  without  poet  or  historian  to  perpetuate  the  me- 
mory of  their  greatness.  Many  of  the  countenances  are 
full  of  noble  expression,  and  bear  the  impress  of  a  wild 
but  tranquil  grandeur.  Others  are  of  dark,  savage,  and 
ferocious  aspect,  with  an  eye  full  of  cunning,  and  a  stern 
inflexibility  of  muscle,  which  seems  to  say,  "  1  slay,  and 
spare  not."  A  few  are  expressive  of  mildness  and  bene- 
volence ;  and  when  I  remembered  the  melancholy  histo- 
ry of  this  fated  race,  and  the  hopeless  contest  they  are 
compelled  to  wage  with  civilized  rapacity,  I  felt  it  im- 
possible to  gaze  on  these  records  of  their  lineaments  with- 
out pain. 

My  visit  to  Washington  brought  with  it  the  advantage 
of  forming  acquaintance  with  many  distinguished  indivi- 
duals, of  some  of  whom  I  would  now  willingly  be  permit- 
ted to  record  my  impressions.  First  in  rank  is  Mr.  Cal 

36 


282  MR.  CALHOUN. 

houn,  the  Vice  President  of  the  United  States.  This  gen- 
tleman was  formerly  a  candidate  for  the  Presidency,  but 
resigned  his  pretensions  in  favour  of  General  Jackson. 
Subsequent  differences,  however,  with  that  eminent  per- 
son, have  produced  a  separation  of  their  interests,  and  it 
is  not  generally  supposed  that  he  has  much  chance  of 
succeeding  at  the  next  election.  Mr.  Calhoun  is  about 
the  middle  height,  spare,  and  somewhat  slouching  in  per- 
son. His  countenance,  though  not  handsome,  is  expres- 
sive, and  enlivened  by  a  certain  vivacity  of  eye  which 
might  redeem  plainer  features.  His  head  is  large,  and 
somewhat  disfigured  by  a  quantity  of  stiff  bristly  hair, 
which  rises  very  high  above  his  forehead.  In  conversa- 
tion, he  is  pleasant,  and  remarkably  free  from  that  dog- 
matism which  constitutes  not  the  least  of  the  social  sins  of 
Americans.  Mr.  Calhoun  evidently  disregards  all  graces 
of  expression,  and,  whatever  be  the  subject  of  discussion, 
comes  directly  to  the  point.  His  manner  and  mode  of 
speaking  indicate  rapidity  of  thought,  and  it  struck  me, 
that,  with  full  confidence  in  his  own  high  talents,  Mr. 
Calhoun  would  probably  find  it  more  agreeable  to  carry 
truth  by  a  coup-de-main,  than  to  await  the  slower  process 
of  patient  induction.  It  is  evident,  indeed,  at  the  first 
glance,  that  the  Vice  President  is  no  ordinary  person. 
His  mind  is  bold  and  acute ;  his  talent  for  business  con- 
fessedly of  the  first  order ;  and,  enjoying  the  esteem  of  his 
countrymen,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  he  is  yet  des- 
tined to  play  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  politics  of  the 
Union. 

Mr.  Edward  Livingston,  then  Senator  for  Louisiana, 
shortly  after  my  departure  from  Washington,  became 
Secretary  of  Stale.  Bred  to  the  New  York  bar,  he  early 
took  his  station  in  the  very  first  line  of  his  profession.  As 
a  philosophical  lawyer,  he  stands  not  only  unrivalled,  hut 
unapproached.  His  experience  in  public  life  has  been 
very  great ;  and  his  high  talents,  extensive  knowledge, 
and  amiable  character,  have  deservedly  acquired  for  him 
the  admiration  and  esteem  of  a  people  not  prompt  in  the 
payment  of  such*  tribute. 

Mr.  Livingston's  fame,  however,  is  not  American,  but 
European.  The  criminal  code  which  he  has  framed  for 
Louisiana,  is  confessedly  a  magnificent  specimen  of  phi- 


MR.  LIVINGSTON.  283 

losophical  legislation,  and  places  the  reputation  of  its  au- 
thor on  a  secure  and  permanent  foundation.  From  this 
code  the  punishment  of  death  is  excluded,  and  Mr.  Li- 
vingston is  a  warm  advocate  for  its  removal  from  the  sta- 
tute books  of  the  other  States. 

The  labours  of  Mr.  Livingston  in  the  compilation  of 
his  code  were,  for  many  years,  unwearied  and  assiduous. 
Men  of  more  limited  knowledge,  and  inferior  powers, 
would  have  been  unfit  for  such  a  task.  Men  of  less  en- 
thusiasm would  have  shrunk  from  it  in  dismay.  Mr.  Li- 
vingston, fortunately  for  himself  and  his  country,  braved 
all  difficulties,  devoted  to  it  the  whole  energies  of  his 
mind,  and  brought  it  to  a  happy  completion. 

Animated  by  the  zeal  of  a  philanthropist,  he  made  him- 
self acquainted  with  the  laws  of  all  nations,  and  the  con- 
tents of  every  treatise  on  crime  and  punishment  which 
could  be  discovered  in  Europe.  He  maintained  an  ex- 
tensive correspondence  with  the  most  eminent  political 
philosophers  of  the  age,  and  among  others,  with  Bentham, 
by  whose  enlightened  advice  he  professes  to  have  largely 
profited. 

One  incident  in  the  life  of  Mr.  Livingston  is  worthy  of 
record,  as  affording  a  fine  illustration  of  the  character  of 
the  man.  His  labours  connected  with  the  code  were 
already  far  advanced,  when -his  whole  papers  were  de- 
stroyed by  fire.  This  happened  at  ten  o'clock  at  night, 
and  at  seven  on  the  following  morning,  with  unbroken 
spirit,  he  began  his  task  afresh!  Few  men  are  endowed 
with  such  buoyancy  of  spirit,  or  such  indomitable  perse- 
verance. 

In  person,  Mr.  Livingston  is  rather  above  the  middle 
height.  His  countenance,  though  without  elegance  of 
feature,  is  peculiarly  pleasing,  from  the  benevolence  of 
its  expression,  and  a  certain  enthusiasm,  unusual  at  his 
years,  which  lights  up  his  eye  when  he  discourses  on  any 
interesting  subject.  His  manners  are  those  of  a  finished 
gentleman,  yet  rather,  I  should  imagine,  the  spontaneous 
result  of  an  innate  and  natural  delicacy  of  thought  and 
feeling,  than  of  intercourse  with  polished  society.  To 
the  courtesy  and  kindness  of  this  eminent  individual  I 
feel  deeply  indebted.  It  is  with  pleasure  that  I  now  give 
public  expression  to  those  sentiments  of  admiration  and 


284  MR-  WEBSTER. 

respect,  which  I  shall  ever  entertain  for  his  character 
and  talents. 

The  person,  however,  who  has  succeeded  in  rivetting 
most  strongly  the  attention  of  the  whole  Union,  is  un- 
doubtedly Mr.  Wehster.  From  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence 
to  that  of  Mexico,  from  Cape  Sable  to  Lake  Superior, 
his  name  has  become,  as  it  were,  a  household  word. 
Many  disapprove  his  politics,  but  none  deny  his  great 
talents,  his  unrivalled  fertility  of  argument,  or  his  power, 
even  still  more  remarkable,  of  rapid  and  comprehensive 
induction.  In  short,  it  is  universally  believed  by  his 
countrymen,  that  Mr.  Webster  is  a  great  man ;  and  in 
this  matter  I  certainly  make  no  pretension  to  singularity 
of  creed.  Mr.  Webster  is  a  man  of  whom  any  country 
might  well  be  proud.  His  knowledge  is  at  once  exten- 
sive and  minute,  his  intellectual  resources  very  great ; 
and,  whatever  may  be  the  subject  of  discussion,  he  is  sure 
to  shed  on  it  the  light  of  an  active,  acute,  and  powerful 
mind. 

I  confess,  however,  I  did  meet  Mr.  Webster  under  the 
influence  of  some  prejudice.  From  the  very  day  of  my 
arrival  in  the  United  States,  I  had  been  made  involun- 
tarily familiar  with  his  name  and  pretensions.  Gentle- 
men sent  me  his  speeches  to  read.  When  I  talked  of 
visiting  Boston,  the  observation  uniformly  followed,  "  Ah! 
there  you  will  see  Mr.  Webster."  When  I  reached  Bos- 
ton, I  encountered  condolence  on  all  hands.  "  You  are 
very  unfortunate,"  said  my  friends,  "  Mr.  Webster  set 
out  yesterday  for  Washington."  Whenever,  at  Phila- 
delphia and  Baltimore,  it  became  known  that  I  had  vi- 
sited Boston,  the  question,  "  Did  you  see  Mr.  Webster  t" 
was  a  sequence  as  constant  and  unvarying  as  that  of  the 
seasons. 

The  result  of  all  this  was,  that  the  name  of  Webster 
became  invested  in  my  ear  with  an  adventitious  caco- 
phony. It  is  not  pleasant  to  admire  upon  compulsion, 
and  the  very  pre-eminence  of  this  gentleman  had  been 
converted  into  something  of  a  bore.  To  Washington, 
however,  I  came,  armed  with  letters  to  the  unconscious 
source  of  my  annoyance.  The  first  night  of  my  arrival  I 
met  him  at  a  ball.  A  dozen  people  pointed  him  out  to  my 
observation,  and  the  first  glance  rivetted  my  attention.  I 


MR.  WEBSTER.  285 

had  never  seen  any  countenance  more  expressive  of  in- 
tellectual power. 

The  forehead  of  Mr.  Webster  is  high,  broad,  and  ad- 
vancing. The  cavity  beneath  the  eyebrow  is  remarka- 
bly large.  The  eye  is  deeply  set,  but  full,  dark,  and 
penetrating  in  the  highest  degree  ;  the  nose  prominent, 
and  well  defined  ;  the  mouth  marked  by  that  rigid  com- 
pression of  the  lips  by  which  the  New  Englanders  are 
distinguished.  When  Mr.  Webster's  countenance  is  in 
repose,  its  expression  struck  me  as  cold  and  forbidding, 
but  in  conversation  it  lightens  up;  and  when  he  smiles, 
the  whole  impression  it  communicates  is  at  once  changed. 
His  voice  is  clear,  sharp,  and  firm,  without  much  variety 
of  modulation ;  but  when  animated,  it  rings  on  the  ear 
like  a  clarion. 

As  an  orator,  I  should  imagine  Mr.  Webster's  forte  to 
lie  in  the  department  of  pure  reason.  I  cannot  conceive 
his  even  attempting  an  appeal  to  the  feelings.  It  could 
not  be  successful ;  and  he  has  too  much  knowledge  of  his 
own  powers  to  encounter  failure.  In  debate  his  very 
countenance  must  tell.  Few  men  would  hazard  a  vo- 
luntary sophism  under  the  glance  of  that  eye,  so  cold,  so 
keen,  so  penetrating,  so  expressive  of  intellectual  power. 
A  single  look  would  be  enough  to  wither  up  a  whole  vo- 
lume of  bad  logic. 

In  the  Senate,  I  had,  unfortunately,  no  opportunity  of 
hearing  Mr.  Webster  display  his  great  powers  as  a  de- 
bater. During  my  stay  the  subjects  on  which  he  hap- 
pened to  speak  were  altogether  of  inferior  interest.  In 
the  Supreme  Court  he  delivered  several  legal  arguments 
which  certainly  struck  me  as  admirable,  both  in  regard 
to  matter  and  manner.  The  latter  was  neither  vehement 
nor  subdued.  It  was  the  manner  of  conscious  power, 
tranquil  and  self-possessed. 

Mr.  Webster  may  be  at  once  acquitted  of  all  partici- 
pation in  the  besetting  sins  of  the  orators  of  his  age  and 
country.  I  even  doubt,  whether,  in  any  single  instance, 
he  can  be  fairly  charged  with  having  uttered  a  sentence 
of  mere  declamation.  His  speeches  have  nothing  about 
them  of  gaudiness  and  glitter.  Words  with  him  are  in- 
struments, not  ends;  the  vehicles,  not  of  sound  merely, 
but  of  sense  and  reason.  He  utters  no  periods  full  of 


286  MR.  VAN  BUREN. 

noise  and  fury,  like  the  voice  of  an  idiot,  signifying — 
nothing;  and  it  certainly  exhibits  proof  that  the  taste  of 
the  Americans  is  not  yet  irretrievably  depraved,  when 
an  orator  like  Mr.  Webster,  who  despises  all  the  stale 
and  petty  trickery  of  his  art,  is  called  by  acclamation 
to  the  first  place. 

In  conversation,  Mr.  Webster  is  particularly  agreea- 
ble. .  It  seems  to  delight  him,  when  he  mingles  with  his 
friends,  to  cast  off  the  trammels  of  weighty  cogitation, 
and  merge  the  lawyer  and  the  statesman  in  the  compa- 
nion;— a  more  pleasant  and  instructive  one  I  have  rarely 
known  in  any  country.  As  a  politician,  the  opinions  of 
Mr.  Webster  are  remarkably  free  from  intolerance.  His 
knowledge  is  both  accurate  and  extensive.  He  is  one 
of  the  few  men  in  America  who  understand  the  British 
Constitution,  not  as  a  mere  abstract  system  of  laws  and 
institutions,  but  in  its  true  form  and  pressure,  as  it  works 
and  acts  upon  the  people,  modified  by  a  thousand  influ- 
ences, of  which  his  countrymen  in  general  know  no- 
thing. 

Mr.  Van  Buren,  then  Secretary  of  State,  and  now 
Vice-President,  possesses,  perhaps,  more  of  the  manner 
which  in  England  would  be  called  that  of  the  world, 
than  any  other  of  the  distinguished  individuals  whom  I 
met  in  Washington.  He  is,  evidently,  a  clever  man, 
with  a  perfect  knowledge  of  character,  and  the  springs 
of  human  action.  Neither  his  conversation  nor  his  man- 
ner are  marked  by  any  thing  of  official  reserve.  Indeed, 
where  the  whole  business  of  the  government  is  conduct- 
ed by  committees  of  the  Senate  and  Representatives,  an 
American  Secretary  of  State  can  have  few  secrets,  and 
those  not  of  much  value.  The  opponents  of  the  minis- 
try, however,  accuse  Mr.  Van  Buren  of  being  a  manoeu- 
vrer  in  politics — a  charge,  I  presume,  to  which  he  is 
obnoxious  only  in  common  with  his  brother,  statesmen, 
of  whatever  party;  for,  where  independence  is  impossi- 
ble, finesse  is  necessary.  But,  on  the  details  of  party 
politics  I  say  nothing;  I  only  know  that  the  Secretary 
of  State  is  a  gentleman  of  talent  and  information,  of 
agreeable  manners,  and,  in  conversation,  full  of  anecdote 
and  vivacity. 

After  a  sojourn  of  three  weeks,  I  began  to  think  of 


JOURNEY  TO  NEW  ORLEANS.        397 

departure;  but  a  farewell  ball,  given  by  the  British  Mi- 
nister, preparatory  to  his  quitting  Washington,  induced 
me  to  prolong  my  stay.  Mr.  Vaughan  had  won  golden 
opinions  from  all  parties  and  conditions  of  Americans. 
No  minister  had  ever  been  more  highly  esteemed,  and 
the  knowledge  that  the  precarious  state  of  his  health 
rendered  it  necessary  that  he  should  return  to  England, 
contributed  to  cast  something  of  gloom  over  the  festivi- 
ty. The  scene,  however,  was  very  brilliant;  and  the 
company,  though  numerous,  certainly  more  select  than 
the  party  at  the  French  Minister's.  There  were,  at  least, 
no  dirty  boots, — a  blessing  which  the  Washington  ladies, 
I  have  no  doubt,  estimated  at  its  full  value. 
On  the  day  following  I  took  my  departure. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

JOURNEY  TO  NEW  ORLEANS. 

FROM  Washington  I  returned  to  Baltimore,  where  I 
experienced  a  renewal  of  that  kindness  and  hospitality, 
to  which,  on  my  former  visit,  I  had  been  so  largely  in- 
debted. As  the  best  mode  of  proceeding  to  the  South, 
I  had  been  recommended  to  cross  from  Baltimore  to 
Wheeling,  on  the  Ohio,  and  there  to  take  steam  for  New 
Orleans,  as  soon  as  the  navigation  of  the  river  should  be 
reported  open.  For  this  intelligence,  however,  it  was 
necessary  to  wait  in  Baltimore,  and  certainly  a  more 
agreeable  place  of  confinement  could  not  have  been  se- 
lected. 

Fortune  favoured  me.  In  a  few  days  the  newspapers 
announced  that  the  ice  had  broken  up,  and  the  Ohio  was 
again  navigable.  Having  had  the  good  fortune  to  en- 
counter one  of  my  English  fellow-passengers  by  the 
New  York,  likewise  bound  for  New  Orleans,  we  agreed 
to  travel  together,  and,  on  the  morning  of  the  6th  of 
March,  before  daylight,  stepped  into  the  rail-way  car- 
riage which  was  to  convey  us  ten  miles  on  our  journey. 


288  HAGERSTOWN. 

The  vehicle  was  of  a  description  somewhat  novel.  It 
was,  in  fact,  a  wooden  house  or  chamber,  somewhat  like 
those  used  by  itinerant  showmen  in  England,  and  was 
drawn  by  a  horse  at  the  rate  of  about  four  miles  an  hour. 
Our  progress,  therefore,  was  not  rapid,  and  we  were 
nearly  three  hours  in  reaching  a  place  called  Ellicot 
Mills,  where  we  found  a  wretched  breakfast  awaiting  our 
arrival. 

Having  done  honour  to  the  meal  in  a  measure  rather 
proportioned  to  our  appetites  than  to  the  quality  of  the 
viands,  we  embarked  in  what  was  called  the  "  Accom- 
modation Stage," — so  designated,  probably,  from  the  ab- 
sence of  every  accommodation  which  travellers  usually 
expect  in  such  a  vehicle.  The  country  through  which 
we  passed  was  partially  covered  with  snow.  The  ap- 
pearance both  of  the  dwelling-houses  and  the  inhabitants 
gave  indication  of  poverty,  which  was  confirmed  by  the 
rough  and  stony  aspect  of  the  soil  wherever  it  was  visi- 
ble. The  coach  stopped  to  dinner  at  a  considerable  vil- 
lage called  Frederickstown,  where  the  appearance  of  the 
entertainment  was  so  forbidding,  that  I  found  it  impos- 
sible to  eat.  My  appetite,  therefore,  was  somewhat 
overweening  when  we  reached  Hagerstown,  a  place  of 
some  magnitude,  where  we  halted  for  the  night,  having 
accomplished  a  distance  of  eighty  miles. 

At  three  o'clock  on  the  following  morning  we  again 
started  on  our  journey.  The  roads  were  much  worse 
than  we  had  found  them  on  the  preceding  day,  the  coun- 
try was  buried  deeper  in  snow,  and  our  progress  was  in 
consequence  slower.  The  appearance  of  poverty  seemed 
to  increase  as  we  advanced.  Here  and  there  a  ragged 
negro  slave  was  seen  at  work  near  the  wretched  log  ho- 
vel of  his  master ;  and  the  number  of  deserted  dwellings 
which  skirted  the  road,  and  of  fields  suffered  to  relapse 
into  a  state  of  nature,  showed  that  their  former  occu- 
pants had  gone  forth  in  search  of  a  more  grateful  soil. 

We  breakfasted  at  Clearspring,  a  trifling  village,  and 
then  commenced  mounting  the  eastern  ridge  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  called  Sideling  Mountain.  To  one  who  has  trod- 
den the  passes  of  the  Alps  and  the  Appenines,  the  Alle- 
ghany  Mountains  present  nothing  very  striking.  Indeed, 
the  general  character  of  American  mountains  is  by  no 


SAVAGE  MOUNTAIN.  289 

means  picturesque.  They  are  round  and  corpulent  pro- 
tuberances, and  rarely  rise  into  forms  of  wild  and  savage 
grandeur.  But  some  of  the  scenes  presented  by  the  Al- 
leghanies  are  very  fine.  Nature,  when  undisturbed  by 
man,  is  never  without  a  beauty  of  her  own.  But  even  in 
these  remote  mountain  recesses,  the  marks  of  wanton  ha- 
voc are  too  often  visible.  Numbers  of  the  trees  by  the 
road  were  scorched  and  mutilated,  with  no  intelligible 
object  but  that  of  destruction.  Objects  the  most  sublime 
or  beautiful  have  no  sanctity  in  the  eyes  of  an  American. 
He  is  not  content  with  the  full  power  of  enjoyment,  he 
must  exert  the  privilege  to  deface. 

Our  day's  journey  terminated  at  Flintstown,  a  solitary 
inn,  near  which  is  a  mineral  spring,  whereof  the  passen- 
gers drank  each  about  a  gallon,  without  experiencing,  as 
they  unanimously  declared,  effect  of  any  sort.  I  own  I 
did  not  regret  the  inefficiency  of  the  waters. 

With  the  morning  of  the  third  day  our  difficulties  com- 
menced. We  now  approached  the  loftier  ridges  of  the 
Alleghanies;  the  roads  became  worse,  and  our  progress 
slower.  The  scenery  was  similar  in  character  to  that  we 
had  already  passed.  The  mountains,  from  base  to  sum- 
mit, were  covered  with  wood,  interspersed  with  great 
quantities  of  kalmias,  rhododendrons,  and  other  flowering 
shrubs. 

On  the  day  following,  our  route  lay  over  a  ridge  called 
the  Savage  Mountain.  The  snow  lay  deeper  every  mile 
of  our  advance,  and  at  length,  on  reaching  a  miserable 
inn,  the  landlord  informed  us,  that  no  carriage,  on  wheels, 
had  been  able  to  traverse  the  mountain  for  six  weeks. 
On  inquiring  for  a  sleigh,  it  then  appeared  that  none  was 
to  be  had,  and  the  natives  all  assured  us  that  proceeding, 
with  our  present  carriage,  was  impossible.  The  landlord 
dilated  on  the  depth  of  snow,  the  dangers  of  the  mountain, 
the  darkness  of  the  nights,  and  strongly  urged  our  taking 
advantage  of  his  hospitality  till  the  following  day.  But 
the  passengers  were  all  anxious  to  push  forward,  and,  as 
one  of  them  happened  to  be  a  proprietor  of  the  coach, 
the  driver  very  unwillingly  determined  on  making  the 
attempt.  We  accordingly  set  forth,  but  had  not  gone 
above  a  mile,  when  the  coach  stuck  fast  in  a  snow-drift, 
which  actually  buried  the  horses.  In  this  predicament, 

37 


290  NATIONAL  ROAD. 

the  whole  men  and  horses  of  the  little  village  were  sum- 
moned to  our  assistance,  and,  after  about  two  hours'  de- 
lay, the  vehicle  was  again  set  free. 

We  reached  the  next  stage  in  the  hollow  of  the  moun- 
tain, without  farther  accident,  and  the  report  as  to  the 
state  of  the  roads  yet  to  be  travelled,  was  very  unpro- 
mising. The  majority  of  the  passengers,  however,  having 
fortified  their  courage  with  copious  infusions  of  brandy, 
determined  not  to  be  delayed  by  peril  of  any  sort.  On 
we  went,  therefore;  the  night  was  pitchy  dark;  heavy 
rain  came  on,  and  the  wind  howled  loudly  amid  the  bare 
and  bony  arms  of  the  surrounding  forest.  The  road  lay 
along  a  succession  of  precipitous  descents,  down  which,  by 
a  single  blunder  of  the  driver,  who  was  quite  drunk,  we 
might  at  any  moment  be  precipitated.  Dangerous  as, 
under  these  circumstances,  our  progress  unquestionably 
was,  the  journey  was  accomplished  in  safety ;  and  halting 
for  the  night  at  a.  petty  village,  situated  between  the  ridge 
we  had  crossed,  and  another  which  yet  remained  to  be 
surmounted,  the  passengers  exchanged  congratulations  on 
the  good  fortune  which  had  hitherto  attended  them. 

Before  sunrise  We  were  again  on  the  road,  and  com- 
menced the  ascent  of  Laurel  Mountain,  which  occupied 
several  hours.  The  view  from  the  summit  was  fine  and 
extensive,  though,  perhaps,  deficient  in  variety.  We 
had  now  surmounted  the  last  ridge  of  the  Alleghanies, 
and  calculated  on  making  the  rest  of  our  way  in  compa- 
rative ease  and  comfort.  This  was  a  mistake.  Though 
we  found  little  snow  to  the  westward  of  the  mountains, 
the  road  was  most  execrable,  and  the  jolting  exceeded 
any  thing  I  had  yet  experienced.  The  day's  journev 
terminated  at  Washington,  a  town  of  considerable  popu- 
lation, with  a  tavern  somewhat  more  comfortable  than 
the  wretched  and  dirty  dogholes  to  which,  for  some  days, 
we  had  been  condemned. 

During  our  last  day's  journey  we  passed  through  a 
richer  country,  but  experienced  no  improvement  in  the 
road,  which  is  what  is  called  a  national  one,  or,  in  other 
words,  constructed  at  the  expense  of  the  general  govern- 
ment. If  intended  by  Congress  to  act  as  an  instrument 
of  punishment  on  their  sovereign  constituents,  it  is,  no 
doubt,  very  happily  adapted  for  the  purpose.  In  its 


VIRGINIAN  DOCTOR.  291 

formation  all  the  ordinary  principles  of  road-making  are 
reversed ;  and  that  grateful  travellers  may  be  instructed 
to  whom  they  are  indebted  for  their  fractures  and  contu- 
sions, a  column  has  been  erected  to  Mr.  Clay,  on  which 
his  claims  to  the  honours  of  artifex  maximus,  are  duly 
emblazoned. 

The  tedium  of  the  journey,  however,  was  enlivened 
by  the  presence  of  a  very  pretty  and  communicative 
young  lady,  returning  from  a  visit  in  the  neighbourhood, 
to  Alexandria,  the  place  of  her  residence.  From  her  I 
gathered  every  information  with  regard  to  the  state  of 
polite  society  in  these  tramontane  regions.  This  fair 
damsel  evidently  made  conquest  of  a  Virginian  doctor, 
who  had  been  our  fellow-traveller  for  several  days,  and 
was  peculiarly  disgusting  from  an  inordinate  addiction  to 
the  vernacular  vices  of  dram- drinking  and  tobacco-chew- 
ing. Being  generally  drunk,  he  spat  right  and  left  in 
the  coach,  and  especially  after  dark,  discharged  volleys 
of  saliva,  utterly  reckless  of  consequences.  One  night  I 
was  wakened  from  a  sound  sleep  by  the  outcries  of  a 
Quaker,  into  whose  eye  he  had  squirted  a  whole  mouth- 
ful of  tobacco  juice.  The  pain  caused  by  this  offensive 
application  to  so  delicate  an  organ  was  very  great. 
Broadbrim  forgot  for  the  nonce  all  the  equanimity  of 
his  cloth;  cursed  the  doctor  for  a  drunken  vagabond; 
and,  on  reaching  our  resting-place  for  the  night,  I  cer- 
tainly observed  that  his  eye  had  suffered  considerable 
damage.  For  myself,  being  a  tolerably  old  traveller,  I 
no  sooner  discovered  the  doctor's  propensity,  than  I  con- 
trived to  gain  possession  of  the  seat  immediately  behind 
him,  and  thus  fortunately  escaped  all  annoyance,  except 
that  arising  from  the  filthiness  of  his  person,  and  the  bru- 
tality of  his  conversation. 

About  mid-day  we  reached  Brownsville,  a  manufac- 
turing town  of  considerable  size,  situated  on  the  Monon- 
gahela,  which,  by  its  junction  with  the  Alleghany,  near 
Pittsburg,  forms  the  Ohio.  The  appearance  of  Browns- 
ville is  black  and  disgusting;  its  streets  are  dirty,  and 
unpaved;  and  the  houses  present  none  of  the  "externals 
of  opulence.  The  river  is  a  fine  one,  about  the  size  of 
the  Thames,  at  Westminster;  and  having  crossed  it,  our 
route  lay  for  some  miles  through  a  pretty  and  undulating 


292  THE  OHIO. 

country.  At  night  we  reached  Wheeling,  after  a  day's 
journey  of  only  thirty  miles,  accomplished  with  more  dif- 
ficulty and  inconvenience  than  we  had  before  experi- 
enced. 

Being  anxious  to  gain  a  view  of  the  Ohio,  I  took  pos- 
session, during  the  last  stage,  of  a  seat  beside  the  driver, 
on  the  box.  Night  was  closing  as  we  gained  the  summit 
of  the  hill,  which  overhangs  the  town  of  Wheeling.  The 
river  was  just  visible,  with  its  noble  volume  of  waters 
flowing  onward  in  quiet  and  tranquil  grandeur.  Before 
we  reached  the  town,  it  was  dark;  the  sky  was  moon- 
less, and  I  was  therefore  obliged  to  defer  the  gratifica- 
tion of  my  curiosity  till  the  following  morning. 

I  was  abroad  betimes.  Immediately  opposite  to  Wheel- 
ing, the  stream  of  the  Ohio  is  divided  by  an  island  of 
considerable  size.  Above  and  below,  it  is  about  the 
hreadth  of  the  Rhine  at  Mayence.  The  scenery,  though 
very  pleasing,  could  scarcely  be  termed  beautiful.  Steam- 
boats of  all  sizes,  were  ranged  along  the  quays ;  and  the 
loud  hissing  of  the  engines  gave  notice  of  numerous  pre- 
parations for  departure. 

The  town  of  Wheeling,  dirty  and  smoke-begrimed, 
could  boast  of  no  attraction;  and  my  English  fellow- 
traveller  having  engaged  berths  in  a  steamer,  about  to 
sail  in  a  few  hours  for  Louisville,  our  baggage  was  im- 
mediately despatched  on  board.'  In  order  to  pass  the 
time,  I  then  crossed  over  to  the  island,  and  spent  an  hour 
in  examining  its  scenery.  The  proprietor  informed  me 
it  contained  about  a  hundred  acres.  Some  of  the  timber 
was  magnificent,  but  cultivation  had  made  sad  havoc  in 
the  natural  beauties  of  the  spot. 

About  two  o'clock  we  started  on  our  voyage.  Our 
steamer  was  not  a  first-rate  one,  but  the  accommodation 
was  good,  and  her  progress,  with  the  stream  in  her  fa- 
vour, very  rapid.  For  several  hours  I  remained  on 
deck,  gazing  on  a  character  of  scenery  to  which  I  had 
seen  nothing  similar  in  Europe.  The  river  is  bounded 
by  a  succession  of  wooded  eminences,  sometimes  rising 
from  the  very  margin;  sometimes  receding  to- a  short  dis- 
tance, and  leaving  a  narrow  plain  of  fertile  land,  on  which 
here  and  there  a  stray  settler  had  established  himself. 
The  dwellings  of  such  settlers  were  of  the  very  rudest 


CINCINNATI.  293 

construction,  being  generally  log  huts,  about  equal  in 
comfortj  I  should  imagine,  to  the  cabin  of  an  Irish  pea- 
sant. 

The  great  defect  of  the  scenery  of  the  Ohio  is  want 
of  variety.  During  the  first  day,  1  was  delighted ;  but, 
on  the  second,  something  of  the  charm  was  gone;  and  at 
length  its  monotony  became  almost  tedious.  A  thousand 
miles  of  any  scenery,  with  one  definite  and  unchanging 
character,  will  generally  be  found  too  much. 

In  two  days  we  reached  Cincinnati,  a  town  of  nearly 
thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  finely  situated,  on  a  slope 
ascending  from  the  river.  The  streets  and  buildings  are 
handsome,  and  certainly  far  superior  to  what  might  be 
expected  in  a  situation  six  hundred  miles  from  the  sea, 
and  standing  on  ground  which,  till  lately,  was  considered 
the  extreme  limit  of  civilization.  It  is,  apparently,  a 
place  of  considerable  trade.  The  quay  was  covered  with 
articles  of  traffic;  and  there  are  a  thousand  indications  of 
activity  and  business,  which  strike  the  senses  of  a  tra- 
veller, but  which  he  would  find  it  difficult  to  describe. 
Having  nothing  bette'r  to  do,  I  took  a  stroll  about  the 
town,  and  its  first  favourable  impression  was  not  dimi- 
nished by  closer  inspection.  Many  of  the  streets  and 
churches  would  have  been  considered  handsome  in  New 
York  or  Philadelphia;  and,  in  the  private  dwellings,  con- 
siderable attention  had  been  paid  to  external  decoration. 

The  most  remarkable  object  in  Cincinnati,  however, 
is  a  large  Graeco-Moresco-Gothic-Chinese-looking  build- 
ing,— an  architectural  compilation  of  prettinesses  of  all 
sorts,  the  effect  of  which  is  eminently  grotesque.  Our 
attention  was  immediately  arrested  by  this  extraordinary 
apparition,  which  could  scarcely  have  been  more  out  of 
place  had  it  been  tossed  on  the  earth  by  some  volcano  in 
the  moon.  While  we  stood  opposite  to  the  edifice,  con- 
templating the  gorgeousness  of  its  effect,  and  speculating 
"  what  aspect  bore  the  man"  to  whom  the  inhabitants  of 
these  central  regions  could  have  been  indebted  for  so 
brilliant  and  fantastic  an  outrage  on  all  acknowledged 
principles  of  taste,  a  very  pretty  and  pleasant-looking 
girl,  came  out,  and  invited  us  to  enter.  We,  according- 
ly, did  so,  and  found  every  thing  in  the  interior  of  the 


294  MRS-  TROLLOPE. 

building  had  been  finished  on  a  scale  quite  in  harmony 
with  its  external  magnificence.  Below,  was  a  saloon  of 
very  spacious  dimensions,  which  our  fair  conductress  in- 
formed us  had  been  intended  for  a  bazaar.  Above,  were 
ball  and  supper  apartments,  with  retiring  rooms  for  the 
ladies,  duly  supplied  with  mirrors  and  toilet  tables.  No- 
thing, in  short,  was  wanting,  which  could  in  any  way 
contribute  to  splendour,  elegance,  or  comfort. 

All  this  excited  our  curiosity,  for,  in  truth,  it  seemed 
as  if  the  projector  of  this  singular  edifice  had  intended^ 
by  its  erection,  to  contribute  rather  to  the  speculative 
and  contingent  wants  of  some  future  generation,  than  to 
minister  to  the  present  necessities  of  the  prudent  and 
hard-working  Cincinnatians.  We  found  our  guide  as 
communicative  as  could  be  desired.  She  informed  us 
that  the  building  had  been  erected  by  an  English  lady  of 
the  name  of  Trollope,  who,  induced  by  pleasure  or  busi- 
ness, had  some  years  before  taken  up  her  residence  in 
Cincinnati;  that  the  experiment  of  a  bazaar  had  been 
tried  and  failed;  that  the  lower  saloon  was  now  altoge- 
ther unoccupied,  except  on  the  4th  of  July,  when  it  wit- 
nessed the  usual  sce"ne  of  festive  celebration;  that  the  so- 
ber Cincinnatians  had  always  been  content  with  two  balls 
in  the  year,  and  would  by  no  means  consent  to  increase 
their  annual  modicum  of  dancing;  in  short,  that  the 
Whole  speculation  had  turned  out  a  decided  failure,  and 
it  was  in  contemplation  of  the  fair  proprietrix  to  convert 
it  into  a  church. 

I  had  then  never  heard  of  Mrs.  Trollope;  but  at  New 
York  I  had  afterwards  the  pleasure  of  becoming  acquaint- 
ed with  her,  and  can  bear  testimony  to  her  conversation 
being  imbued  with  all  that  grace,  spirit,  and  vivacity, 
which  have  since  delighted  the  world  in  her  writings. 
How  far  Mrs.  Trollope's  volumes  present  a  just  picture 
of  American  society,  it  is  not  for  me  to  decide,  though 
I  can  offer  willing  testimony  to  the  general  fidelity  of 
her  descriptions.  But  her  claims  to  the  gratitude  of  the 
Cincinnatians  are  undoubtedly  very  great.  Her  archi- 
tectural talent  has  beautified  their  city;  her  literary 
powers  have  given  it  celebrity.  For  nearly  thirty  years 
Cincinnati  had  gradually  been  increasing  in  opulence. 


DINNER  IN  STEAM-BOAT.  395 

and  enjoying  a  vulgar  and  obscure  prosperity.  Corn 
had  grown,  and  hogs  had  fattened;  men  had  built  houses, 
and  women  borne  children;  but  in  all  the  higher  senses 
of  urbane  existence,  Cincinnati  was  a  nonentity.  It 
was  "  unknown,  unhonoured,  and  unsung."  Ears  po- 
lite had  never  heard  of  it.  There  was  not  the  glimmer- 
ing of  a  chance  that  it  would  be  mentioned  twice  in  a 
twelvemonth,  even  on  the  Liverpool  Exchange.  But 
Mrs.  Trollope  came,  and  a  zone  of  light  has  ever  since 
encircled  Cincinnati.  Its  inhabitants  are  no  longer  a 
race  unknown  to  fame.  Their  manners,  habits,  virtues, 
tastes,  vices,  and  pursuits,  are  familiar  to  all  the  world; 
but,  strange  to  say,  the  market-place  of  Cincinnati  is  yet 
unadorned  by  the  statue  of  the  great  benefactress  of  the 
city!  Has  gratitude  utterly  departed  from  the  earth? 

These  western  regions  are  undoubtedly  the  chosen 
abode  of  plenty.  Provisions  are  so  cheap  that  no  one 
ever  seems  to  dream  of  economy.  Three  times  a-day 
was  the  table  in  the  steam-boat  literally  covered  with 
dishes,  wedged  together  as  closely  as  a  battalion  of  in- 
fantry in  solid  square.  Though  the  passengers  were 
only  about  twenty  in  number,  there  was  always  dinner 
enough  for  a  hundred.  Joints,  turkeys,  hams,  chops, 
and  steaks,  lay  spread  before  us  in  most  admired  confu- 
sion. Brandy  bottles  were  located  at  judicious  inter- 
vals; and  porter  was  to  be  had  on  paying  for  it.  I  had 
asked  for  wine,  but  in  vain;  so,  being  at  the  luxurious 
city  of  Cincinnati,  and  tolerably  tired  of  the  poison 
called  brandy,  I  sent  for  a  bottle  of  Champagne  from  the 
inn.  The  bottle  came,  but  on  being  opened,  the  con- 
tents were  much  more  like  sour  cider  than  Champagne, 
In  short,  the  stuff  was  decidedly  too  bad  for  drinking, 
and  was  accordingly  pushed  aside.  But  the  appearance 
of  this  anomalous-looking  flask  evidently  caused  some 
commotion  among  the  passengers.  The  wine  was  pro- 
bably one  which  few  of  them  had  tasted,  and  many 
were  evidently  determined  to  seize  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity of  enlarging  their  experience.  "  I  should  like  a 
glass  of  your  wine,  sir,  if  you  have  no  objections,"  said 
my  old  enemy  the  Virginian  doctor.  I  immediately 
pushed  the  bottle  to  him,  and  he  filled  his  tumbler  to 
the  brim.  Observing  this,  the  persons  about  him,  with- 


296  HABITS  OF  PASSENGERS. 

out  ceremony  of  any  kind,  seized  the  bottle,  and  its  con- 
tents incontinently  disappeared. 

In  regard  to  the  passengers,  truth  compels  me  to  say, 
that  any  thing  so  disgusting  in  human  shape  1  had  never 
seen.  Their  morals  and  their  manners  were  alike  de- 
testable. A  cold  and  callous  selfishness,  a  disregard  of 
all  the  decencies  of  society,  were  so  apparent  in  feature, 
word  and  action,  that  I  found  it  impossible  not  to  wish 
that  their  catalogue  of  sins  had  been  enlarged  by  one 
more — hypocrisy.  Of  hypocrisy,  however,  they  were 
not  guilty.  The  conversation  in  the  cabin  was  inter- 
larded with  the  vilest  blasphemy,  not  uttered  in  a  state 
of  mental  excitement,  but  with  a  coolness  and  delibera- 
tion truly  fiend-like.  There  was  a  Baptist  clergyman 
on  board,  but  his  presence  did  not  seem  to  operate  as  a  re- 
straint. The  scene  of  drinking  and  gambling  had  no  in- 
termission. It  continued  day  and  night.  The  captain 
of  the  vessel  so  far  from  discouraging  either  vice,  was 
one  of  the  most  flagrant  offenders  in  both.  He  was  de- 
cidedly the  greatest  gambler  on  board;  and  was  often  so 
drunk  as  to  be  utterly  incapable  of  taking  command  of 
the  vessel.  There  were  a  few  female  passengers,  but 
with  their  presence  we  were  only  honoured  at  meals. 
At  all  other  times,  they  prudently  confined  themselves 
to  their  own  cabin. 

One  circumstance  may  be  mentioned,  which  is  tole- 
rably illustrative  of  the  general  habits  of  the  people.  In 
every  steamboat  there  is  a  public  comb  and  hair-brush 
suspended  by  a  string  from  the  ceiling  of  the  cabin. 
These  utensils  are  used  by  the  whole  body  of  the  pas- 
sengers, and  their  condition,  the  pen  of  Swift  could  alone 
adequately  describe.  There  is  no  tooth-brush,  simply, 
I  believe,  because  the  article  is  entirely  unknown  to  the 
American  toilet.  A  common  towel,  however,  passes 
from  hand  to  hand,  and  suffices  for  the  perfunctory  ablu- 
tions of  the  whole  party  on  board.  It  was  often  with 
great  difficulty  that  I  procured  the  exclusive  usufruct  of 
one,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  demand  was  not  only 
unusual  but  disagreeable. 

One  day  at  dinner,  my  English  fellow-traveller,  who 
had  resided  many  years  in  the  United  States,  inquired 
whether  I  observed  an  ivory  hilt  protruded  from  beneath 


LOUISVILLE.  297 

the  waistcoat  of  a  gentleman  opposite.  I  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  and  he  then  informed  me  that  the  whole  popu- 
lation of  the  Southern  and  Western  States  are  uniformly 
armed  with  daggers.  On  my  expressing  some  doubt  of  this 
singular  fact,  he  pointed  to  a  number  of  sticks  collected 
in  one  corner  of  the  cabin,  and  offered  a  wager  that  every 
one  of  these  contained  either  a  dagger  or  a  sword.  I 
took  the  bet,  and  lost  it;  and  my  subsequent  observations 
confirmed  the  truth  of  his  assertion  in  every  particular. 
Even  in  travelling  in  the  state  of  New  York,  I  after- 
wards observed  that  a  great  number  of  the  passengers  in 
stage-coaches  and  canal  boats  were  armed  with  this  un- 
manly and  assassin-like  weapon. 

It  is  the  fashion  in  the  United  States  to  ask  a  foreigner 
whether  he  does  not  admire  the  extraordinary  respect 
and  deference  which  the  people  pay  to  the  law.  It  is 
pretty  evident,  however,  from  the  circumstances  I  have 
mentioned,  that  whatever  respect  each  individual  may 
pay  to  the  law  in  his  own  person,  he  has  no  great  confi- 
dence in  a  similar  demonstration  on  the  part  of  his  neigh- 
bour. 

We  left  Cincinnati  about  two  o'clock,  and  betimes,  on 
the  following  morning,  were  at  Louisville,  in  Kentucky. 
The  scenery  of  the  river  continued  unchanged.  I  was 
particularly  struck  with  the  vast  masses  of  drift-wood 
carried  down  by  the  stream.  Trees,  of  the  most  gigan- 
tic dimensions,  seemed  to  have  been  been  uprooted  by 
the  floods  from  the  spot  in  which  they  had  stood  for  cen- 
turies. The  great  quantity  of  this  drift-wood  occasions 
some  danger;  for  the  paddles,  by  striking  it,  are  apt  to 
break,  and  there  is  always  a  man  on  the  look-out  to  report 
any  apparent  risk  of  contact. 

At  Louisville,  the  vessel  terminated  her  voyage.  It 
is  a  place  of  greater  trade,  I  believe,  than  Cincinnati, 
though  with  scarcely  half  the  population.  Being  tired 
of  steam-boat  living,  we  breakfasted  at  the  inn.  We 
were  at  first  ushered  into  the  bar,  already  crowded  with 
about  a  hundred  people,  all  assembled  with  the  same  ob- 
ject as  ourselves.  At  length  the  bell  sounded,  and  the 
crowd  rushed  up  stairs  to  the  breakfast-room  as  if  fa- 
mine-stricken. The  meal  was  coarse  and  bad.  The 
bread  was  made  with  grease,  and  a  sight  of  the  dressed 

38 


298  MR-  CLAY. 

dishes  was  enough.  Immediately  opposite  was  a  coid 
fowl,  to  which  I  requested  a  gentleman  to  help  me.  He 
deliberately  cut  out  the  whole  body  for  himself,  and 
then  handed  across  the  dish  with  the  drumsticks. 

After  breakfast,  we  went  over  all  the  New  Orleans 
vessels,  but  could  find  none  about  to  sail,  sooner  than 
the  following  day  at  noon.  My  companion  and  myself 
accordingly  took  places  in  the  Huntress,  and,  for  fifty 
dollars,  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  secure  a  separate  cabin 
for  myself  and  servant.  This  was  of  some  consequence; 
because,  in  these  regions,  no  white  man  can  appear  with- 
out disgrace  in  the  capacity  of  servant  to  another.  I 
was,  therefore,  obliged,  at  Wheeling,  to  desire  mine  to 
designate  himself  as  my  clerk  or  secretary;  and,  in 
cleaning  my  clothes,  he  generally  ensconced  himself  be- 
hind a  curtain.  On  the  present  occasion,  with  the  pro- 
mise of  this  accommodation,  I  was  content  to  put  up 
with  a  very  inferior  vessel  to  many  others  then  at  Lou- 
isville. 

Within  forty  miles  of  Louisville,  is  the  residence  of 
Mr.  Clay,  and  I  had  entered  Kentucky  with  the  inten- 
tion of  visiting  that  eminent  person,  who  is  considered 
equally  remarkable  for  his  powers  as  a  statesman  and  a 
companion.  I  learned,  however,  at  Louisville,  that  Mr. 
Clay  was  then  at  New  Orleans,  but  expected  to  leave 
that  city  in  the  course  of  the  following  week.  As  I  was 
particularly  anxious  to  become  acquainted  with  the  great 
rival  of  the  present  President,  I  determined  on  giving 
up  all  idea  of  a  tour  in  Kentucky,  and  pushing  on  to 
New  Orleans  with  the  least  possible  delay.  This  deci- 
sion was  unfortunate,  for  it  prevented  my  becoming  ac- 
quainted with  a  very  interesting  state,  and  availing  my- 
self of  several  hospitable  invitations  I  had  received  in 
New  York  and  Washington.  I  found,  too,  on  my  arri- 
val at  New  Orleans,  that  Mr.  Clay  had  taken  his  depar- 
ture; so  that  the  only  effect  of  my  arrangements  was  a 
double  disappointment. 

The  Kentuckians  may  be  called  the  Irish  of  America. 
They  have  all  that  levity  of  character,  that  subjection  of 
the  moral  to  the  convivial,  that  buoyancy  of  spirit,  that 
jocular  ferocity,  that  ardour,  both  of  attachment  and  of 
hatred,  which  distinguish  the  natives  of  the  Emerald  Isle. 


KENTUCKIANS.  299 

The  Kentuckians  are  the  only  Americans  who  can  un- 
derstand a  joke.  There  is  a  kind  of  native  humour 
about  them  which  is  very  pleasant;  and,  I  must  say,  that 
several  Kentucky  gentlemen  were  among  the  most 
agreeable  companions,  with  whom  I  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  become  acquainted  during  my  tour. 

About  a  mile  below  Louisville  are  the  falls,  or  rather 
rapids,  of  the  Ohio,  which,  when  the  river  is  low,  offer  a 
formidable  obstruction  to  the  navigation.  In  order  to 
avoid  them,  a  canal  has  been  constructed  near  the  place 
called  Shipping-port.  The  work  was  one  of  some  diffi- 
culty, and  has  been  executed  in  the  most  expensive 
manner.  Owing  to  the  quantities  of  sediment  which  the 
river  carries  into  it  when  in  flood,  I  was  sorry  to  learn 
that  this  fine  work  is  considered  likely  to  prove  a  failure. 
As  the  canal  is  only  to  be  used,  however,  when  the  river 
is  low,  and  consequently  free  from  impurity,  I  cannot 
but  think  that,  by  the  addition  of  floodgates,  the  evil 
might  be  easily  remedied. 

The  New  Orleans  steam-boats  are  a  very  different  de- 
scription of  vessels  to  any  I  had  yet  seen.  They  are  of 
great  size,  and  the  object  being  to  carry  as  large  a  cargo 
as  possible,  the  whole  vessel,  properly  so  called,  is  de- 
voted to  this  purpose,  and  the  cabins  for  the  passengers 
are  raised  in  successive  tiers  above  the  main  deck. 
The  lower  of  these  cabins  is  appropriated  to  the  gentle- 
men. It  is  generally  spacious,  and  very  handsomely 
fitted  up.  Three  of  its  sides  are  surrounded  by  a  gallery 
and  veranda.  Over  this  is  the  ladies'  cabin,  equally 
handsome,  though  smaller.  On  the  roof  of  the  ladies' 
cabin  is  a  deck  on  which  the  passengers  may  amuse  them- 
selves as  they  think  proper.  Near  the  forecastle,  at  the 
same  elevation,  is  the  place  for  the  steerage  passengers. 
These  vessels  have  very  much  the  appearance  of  three- 
deckers,  and  many  of  them  are  upwards  of  500  tons'  bur- 
den. Their  engines  are  generally  constructed  on  the 
high-pressure  principle,  and  one  or  two  generally  blow 
up  every  season,  sending  a  score  or  two  of  parboiled 
passengers  to  an  inconvenient  altitude  in  the  atmo- 
sphere. 

On  the  day  following  we  commenced  our  voyage,  of 
1500  miles,  to  New  Orleans.  The  weather  was  delight- 


300  DEPARTURE  FROM  LOUIS  VJLLE. 

ful,  and  I  now  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  reading  and 
writing  undisturbed  in  my  cabin.  The  passengers, 
though  coarse  as  heart  could  desire,  were  at  least  less 
openly  and  obtrusively  profligate  than  those  I  have  al- 
ready described.  There  was  the  same  scene  of  gambling 
and  drinking;  but  I  was  now  able  to  remove  from  the 
din  and  the  blasphemy. 

After  leaving  Louisville,  we  were  nearly  three  days 
in  reaching  the  point  of  junction  between  the  Mississippi 
and  Ohio.  The  latter  river  receives  the  waters  of  several 
large  tributaries,  the  Tennessee,  the  Cumberland,  the 
Wabash,  &c.,  by  which  its  magnitude  is  prodigiously 
increased.  We  skirted  the  new  and  flourishing  states  of 
Indiana  and  Illinois,  which  I  did  not  visit.  With  their 
facilities,  agricultural  and  commercial,  their  advantages 
and  disadvantages,  their  soil,  their  climate,  their  produc- 
tions, the  public  have  already  been  made  familiar  by 
writers  far  better  qualified  to  afford  instruction  on  such 
matters  than  I  pretend  to  be. 

To  a  traveller,  whose  leading  objects  are  connected 
with  the  structure  of  society,  there  is  little  in  a  scantily 
peopled  territory  to  excite  speculation.  He  that  has  seen 
one  settler  in  the  backwoods  has  seen  a  thousand.  Those 
whom  the  love  of  lucre,  and  consciousness  of  indepen- 
dence, have  induced  to  seek  the  recesses  of  the  forest, 
who  gaze  daily  on  the  same  aspect  of  nature,  who  en- 
dure the  same  privations,  encounter  the  same  difficulties, 
and  struggle  by  the  same  means,  for  the  same  ultimate 
reward,  can  present  but  one  aspect  of  human  character, 
and  that  far  from  the  most  interesting.  With  individuals 
BO  situated,  indeed,  I  was  necessarily,  in  different  portions 
of  my  journey,  brought  into  frequent  contact.  But  I  ne- 
ver voluntarily  sought  them,  for  I  was  chiefly  anxious  to 
contemplate  men  in  their  social  and  more  extended  rela- 
tions, and  to  observe  the  influences,  moral  and  political, 
by  which  the  national  character  had  been  formed  or  mo- 
dified. My  steps,  therefore,  were  directed  to  the  city, 
not  to  the  solitary  shantee;  to  the  haunts  of  large  masses 
of  men,  rather  than  to  those  of  isolated  adventurers,  who 
have  yet  to  dispute  the  dominion  of  the  forest  with  the 
bear  and  the  panther. 

On  the  second  morning  after  our  departure  from  Lou- 


JUNCTION  OF  THE  OHIO  AND  MISSISSIPPI.       301 

isville,  a  change  in  the  general  character  of  the  river 
seemed  to  indicate  that  we  were  rapidly  approaching  the 
Mississippi.  For  about  fifty  miles  before  the  point  of 
union,  the  surrounding  scenery  is  flat,  and  the  breadth  of 
the  Ohio  is  more  than  doubled,  as  if,  from  a  feeling  of  ri- 
valry, the  river  god  had  expanded  his  waters  to  the  ut- 
most. On  the  present  occasion,  the  Ohio  had  the  advan- 
tage of  being  very  full  from  the  melting  of  the  snows 
along  the  whole  line  of  its  course,  while  the  Mississippi, 
descending  from  higher  latitudes,  had  experienced  no  such 
augmentation. 

For  hours  I  was  on  the  tiptoe  of  expectation  to  catch 
the  first  glimpse  of  "  the  father  of  rivers,"  and  with  this 
view,  had  taken  up  a  station  on  the  highest  pinnacle  of 
the  forecastle.  At  length,  when  yet  about  five  miles  dis- 
tant, the  Mississippi,  sailing  along  in  dark  and  solemn 
grandeur,  became  distinctly  visible.  Both  rivers  were 
about  two  miles  broad,  but  the  expanse  of  the  Ohio 
struck  me  as  being  somewhat  larger  than  that  of  its 
more  powerful  rival.  I  do  not  remember  any  occasion 
on  which  my  imagination  was  more  excited.  I  felt,  in 
parting  with  the  Ohio,  as  if  I  had  done  injustice  to  its  at- 
tractions. True,  it  presents  but  one  phasis  of  beauty,  but 
that  is  of  the  noblest  character.  For  a  distance  of  nine 
hundred  miles  I  had  beheld  it  roll  its  clear  waters,  smooth- 
ly and  peacefully,  and  I  now,  almost  with  a  feeling  of  re- 
gret, bade  it  farewell. 

The  Huntress  kept  on  her  way  rejoicing.  We  passed 
the  small  settlement  of  Cairo,  standing  on  an  isthmus  be- 
tween the  two  rivers,  and  in  a  few  minutes  beheld  our- 
selves borne  on  the  most  majestic  tribute  of  waters  which 
Earth  pays  to  Ocean. 

It  certainly  appears  strange  that  the  Mississippi,  after 
absorbing  the  Ohio,  presents  no  visible  augmentation  of 
its  volume.  Below  the  point  of  junction,  the  river  is  not 
broader  than  the  Ohio  alone.  Though  flowing  in  the 
same  channel,  the  streams  are  not  mingled.  For  many 
miles  there  is  a  distinct  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
waters  of  the  two  rivers.  Those  of  the  Ohio  are  clear, 
while  the  stream  of  the  Mississippi  is  ever  dark  and  tur- 
bid. When  the  Mississippi  is  in  flood,  it  almost  dams  up 
the  Ohio,  and  suffers  it  to  occupy  but  a  small  portion  of 


302  SCENERY  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 

the  common  channel.  But,  in  other  circumstances,  the 
case  is  different,  and  the  Ohio  constitutes,  in  parliamen- 
tary phrase,  a  very  respectable  minority. 

After  quitting  la  belle  riviere,  as  the  French  first  desig- 
nated the  Ohio,  one  feels  as  if  he  had  made  an  exchange 
for  the  worse.  The  scenery  of  the  Mississippi  is  even 
less  varied  than  that  of  the  Ohio.  It  is  almost  uniformly 
flat,  though  in  the  course  of  twelve  hundred  miles  a  few 
bluffs  and  eminences  do  certainly  occur.  The  wood  grows 
down  to  the  very  margin  of  the  river,  and  the  timber,  for 
some  hundred  miles,  is  by  no  means  remarkable  for  size. 
As  the  river  descends  to  the  southward,  however,  it  is  of 
finer  growth ;  and  about  latitude  36°,  vegetation  becomes 
marked  by  a  degree  of  rankness  and  luxuriance  which  I 
have  never  seen  equalled  any  where  else. 

The  American  forests  are  generally  remarkable  for  the 
entire  absence  of  underwood,  so  that  they  are  easily  pe- 
netrable by  a  foot  traveller,  and,  generally,  even  by  a 
mounted  one.  But  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Mississippi 
there  is  almost  uniformly  a  thick  undergrowth  of  cane, 
varying  in  height  from  four  or  five  to  about  twenty  feet, 
according  to  the  richness  of  the  soil.  Through  this  thicket 
of  cane  1  should  think  it  quite  impossible  to  penetrate, 
yet  I  have  been  assured  the  Indians  do  so  for  leagues  to- 
gether, though  by  what  means  they  contrive  to  guide 
their  course,  where  vision  is  manifestly  impossible,  it  is 
not  easy  to  understand. 

The  steam-boats  stop  twice  a-day  to  take  in  a  supply 
of  wood  for  the  engine.  These  vessels  have  become  so 
numerous  that  a  considerable  number  of  settlers  make  it 
their  business  to  supply  them,  and  thus  turn  their  labour 
to  better  account  than  would  be  found  in  the  cultivation 
of  the  soil.  '  But  the  climate  is  deadly  and  pestilential ; 
they  are  wan  and  sallow ;  and  those  with  whom  I  spoke 
seemed  to  regard  fevers  as  things  of  course.  Medicine 
they  have  none ;  and  when  one's  eyes  rested  on  the  mi- 
serable and  pallid  children,  and  their  haggard  mother, 
it  was  impossible  not  to  feel  compassion  for  these  forlorn 
outcasts. 

Outcasts  they  literally  are.  Many  have  fled  for 
crimes,  to  a  region  where  the  arm  of  the  law  cannot 
reach  them.  Others  are  men  of  broken  characters, 


SOCIETY  IN  STEAM-BOAT.  393 

hopes,  and  fortunes,  who  fly  not  from  justice,  but  eon- 
tempt.  One  man  told  me  it  was  so.  He  had  known  bet- 
ter days.  Men  blamed  him  when  he  became  poor.  He 
withdrew  his  poverty  from  their  sight,  and  came  to  la- 
bour amid  the  untrodden  forests  of  the  Mississippi.  The 
man  had  been  handsome,  and  still  bore  about  him  some- 
thing of  dignity.  His  manners  were  remarkably  pleasing; 
but  my  fellow  passengers  assured  me  that  he  was  one 
who  could  stab  while  he  smiled.  1  certainly  should  not 
much  have  fancied  encroaching  on  the  hospitality  of  his 
solitary  shantee. 

These  settlers  are  called  Squatters.  They  locate  where 
they  please,  without  troubling  themselves  about  any  title 
to  the  land  they  occupy.  Should  a  rival  in  the  business 
of  wood-cutting  choose  ta  take  up  his  residence  inconve- 
niently near,  the  rifle  settles  the  dispute.  One  or  other 
becomes  food  for  the  vultures,  and  the  market  continues 
uninjured  by  competition. 

During  the  whole  course  of  the  voyage,  we  daily 
passed  numbers  of  large  arks  or  rafts,  consisting  of  rough 
timbers,  nailed  together  in  the  shape  of  a  square  box,  in 
which  the  poorer  proprietors  of  the  upper  country  send 
down  the  produce  of  their  land  to  New  Orleans.  These 
vessels  were  often  without  sails  of  any  kind,  and  the  only 
skill  necessary  in  the  navigation  was  to  keep  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  stream.  Time  was,  and  that  not  far  distant, 
when  these  rafts  constituted  almost  the  only  vehicles  for 
conveying  produce  to  the  place  of  embarkation.  In  those 
days,  a  voyage  to  Louisville  and  back  occupied  about 
nine  months,  and  by  means  of  steam  it  can  now  be  per- 
formed in  little  more  than  a  fortnight.  The  application 
of  steam  navigation  to  the  purposes  of  commerce  has  in- 
deed given  a  mighty  impulse  to  the  prosperity  of  the 
central  States.  In  the  niches  next  to  Mrs.  Trollope,  the 
Cincinnatians  should  place  statues  of  Fulton  and  James 
Watt.  To  the  first  they  owe  celebrity;  to  the  two  last, 
a  market  for  their  bacon  and  flour. 

Time  passed  on  board  of  the  steam-boat,  if  not  plea- 
santly, at  least  tranquilly.  True,  there  were  gambling 
and  drinking,  and  wrangling  and  swearing;  true,  there 
was  an  utter  disregard  of  all  the  decent  courtesies  of  so- 
ciety :  but  to  these  things  I  had  gradually  become  ac- 


304  SCENERY  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 

customed ;  for  as  they  hourly,  and  almost  minutely  "  over- 
came us  like  a  summer's  cloud,"  they  were  no  longer 
regarded  with  "  special  wonder."  But  there  were  some 
things  to  which  I  had  not  become  accustomed,  and  one 
of  these  was  slavery ;  and  another,  eating  and  drinking 
and  holding  communion  with  a  slave-dealer. 

Unfortunately,  the  man  generally  occupied  the  place 
next  to  me  at  dinner;  and,  strange  to  say,  with  the  soul 
of  a  brute,  I  remarked  that  he  performed  all  the  func- 
tions of  an  ordinary  American.  He  ate,  he  drank,  he 
voided  profusion  of  tobacco  juice,  he  swallowed  brandy 
every  half  hour  of  the  day,  and  passed  three-fourths, 
both  of  day  and  night,  in  gambling.  His  poor  gang  of 
slaves  were  above  stairs,  the  men  loaded  with  heavy 
chains,  and  the  women  with  scarcely  rags  enough  to 
serve  the  purposes  of  decency.  I  spoke  occasionally  to 
both,  and  the  women  were  certainly  the  more  intelligent. 
They  seemed  to  take  pride  in  the  largeness  of  the  prices 
they  had  formerly  brought  in  the  markel ;  and  one,  with 
a  look  of  dignity,  told  me  her  master  had  refused  three 
hundred  dollars  for  her.  Who,  after  this,  shall  presume 
to  say,  that  vanity  is  not  an  inherent  attribute  of  woman? 

The  men  were  in  a  state  at  once  wretched  and  dis- 
gusting. Their  chains  prevented  their  performing  the 
ordinary  functions  of  cleanliness,  and  their  skin  had  be- 
come covered  with  a  sort  of  scaly  eruption.  But  I  will 
not  enlarge  on  a  subject  so  revolting.  1  remember,  how- 
ever, that  no  one  on  board  talked  about  freedom  so  loud- 
ly or  so  long  as  this  slave-dealer.  He  at  length  left  us, 
and  the  sky  seemed  brighter,  and  the  earth  greener,  af- 
ter his  departure. 

It  has  been  the  fashion  with  travellers  to  talk  of  the 
scenery  of  the  Mississippi  as  wanting  grandeur  and 
beauty.  Most  certainly  it  has  neither.  But  there  is  no 
scenery  on  earth  more  striking.  The  dreary  and  pesti- 
lential solitudes,  untrodden  save  by  the  foot  of  the  In- 
dian; the  absence  of  all  living  objects,  save  the  huge  alli- 
gators which  float  past,  apparently  asleep,  on  the  drift- 
wood; and  an  occasional  vulture,  attracted  by  its  impure 
prey  on  the  surface  of  the  waters;  the  trees,  with  a  Jong 
and  hideous  drapery  of  pendant  moss,  fluttering  in  the 
wind;  and  the  giant  river  rolling  on  ward  the  vast  volume 


SCENERY  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI.  3Q5 

of  its  dark  and  turbid  waters  through  the  wilderness, 
form  the  features  of  one  of  the  most  dismal  and  impres- 
sive landscapes  on  which  the  eye  of  man  ever  rested. 

If  any  man  think  proper  to  helieve  that  such  objects 
are  not,  in  themselves,  sufficient,  1  beg  only  to  say  that 
I  differ  with  him  in  point  of  taste.  Rocks  and  mountains 
are  fine  things,  undoubtedly,  but  they  could  add  nothing 
of  sublimity  to  the  Mississippi.  Pelion  might  be  piled 
on  Ossa,  Alps  on  Andes,  and  still,  to  the  heart  and  per- 
ceptions of  the  spectator,  the  Mississippi  would  be  alone. 
It  can  brook  no  rival,  and  it  finds  none.  No  river  in  the 
world  drains  so  large  a  portion  of  the  earth's  surface.  It 
is  the  traveller  of  five  thousand  miles,  more  than  two- 
thirds  of  the  diameter  of  the  globe.  The  imagination 
asks,  whence  come  its  waters,  and  whither  tend  they? 
They  come  from  the  distant  regions  of  a  vas.t  continent, 
where  the  foot  of  civilized  man  has  never  yet  been 
planted.  They  flow  into  an  ocean  yet  vaster,  the  whole 
body  of  which  acknowledges  their  influence.  Through 
what  varieties  of  climate  have  they  passed!  On  what 
scenes  of  lonely  and  sublime  magnificence  have  they 
gazed!  Have  they  penetrated — 

"  The  hoary  forests,  still  the  Bison's  screen, 

Where  stalked  the  Mammoth  to  his  shag-gy  lair, 
Through  paths  and  alleys,  roof 'd  with  sombre  green, 

Thousands  of  years  before  the  silent  air 
Was  pierc'd  by  whizzing  shaft  of  hunter  keen?" 

In  short,  when  the  traveller  has  asked  and  answered 
these  questions,  and  a  thousand  others,  it  will  be  time 
enough  to  consider  how  far  the  scenery  of  the  Missis- 
sippi would  be  improved  by  the  presence  of  rocks  and 
mountains.  He  may  then  be  led  to  doubt  whether  any 
great  effect  can  be  produced  by  a  combination  of  objects 
of  discordant  character,  however  grand  in  themselves. 
The  imagination  is,  perhaps,  susceptible  but  of  a  single 
powerful  impression  at  a  time.  Sublimity  is  uniformly 
connected  with  unity  of  object.  Beauty  may  be  pro- 
duced by  the  happy  adaptation  of  a  multitude  of  harmo- 
nious details;  but  the  highest  sublimity  of  effect  can  pro- 
ceed but  from  one  glorious  and  paramount  object,  which 
impresses  its  own  character  on  every  thing  around. 

39 


306  NAVIGATION  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 

The  prevailing  character  of  the  Mississippi  is  that  of 
solemn  gloom.  I  have  trodden  the  passes  of  Alp  and 
Appennine,  yet  never  felt  how  awful  a  thing  is  nature, 
till  I  was  borne  on  its  waters,  through  regions  desolate 
and  uninhabitable.  Day  after  day,  and  night  after  night, 
we  continued  driving  right  downward  to  the  south;  our 
vessel,  like  some  huge  demon  of  the  wilderness,  bearing 
fire  in  her  bosom,  and  canopying  the  eternal  forest  with 
the  smoke  of  her  nostrils.  How  looked  the  hoary  river- 
god  I  know  not;  nor  what  thought  the  alligators,  when 
awakened  from  their  slumber  by  a  vision  so  astounding. 
But  the  effect  on  my  own  spirits  was  such  as  I  have  never 
experienced  before  or  smce.  Conversation  became  odi- 
ous, and  I  passed  my  time  in  a  sort  of  dreamy  contem- 
plation. At  night,  1  ascended  to  the  highest  deck,  and 
lay  for  hours  gazing  listlessly  on  the  sky,  the  forest,  and 
the  waters,  'amid  silence  only  broken  by  the  clanging  of 
the  engine.  All  this  was  very  pleasant;  yet,  till  I  reached 
New  Orleans,  I  could  scarcely  have  smiled  at  the  best 
joke  in  the  world;  and  as  for  raising  a  laugh — it  would 
have  been  quite  as  easy  to  quadrate  the  circle. 

The  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  is  not  unaccompa- 
nied by  danger.  I  do  not  now  speak  of  the  risk  of  ex- 
plosion, which  is  very  considerable,  but  of  a  peril  arising 
from  what  are  called  planters  and  sawyers.  These  are 
trees  firmly  fixed  in  the  bottom  of  the  river,  by  which 
vessels  are  in  danger  of  being  impaled.  The  distinction 
is,  that  the  former  stand  upright  in  the  water,  the  latter 
lie  with  their  points  directed  down  the  stream.  We  had 
the  bad  luck  to  sustain  some  damage  from  a  planter, 
whose  head  being  submersed  was  of  course  invisible. 

The  bends  or  flexures  of  the  Mississippi  are  regular  in 
a  degree  unknown  in  any  other  river;  indeed,  so  much 
is  this  the  case,  that  I  should  conceive  it  quite  practica- 
ble for  an  hydrographer  to  make  a  tolerably  accurate 
sketch  of  its  course  without  actual  survey.  The  action 
of  running  water,  in  a  vast  alluvial  plain  like  that  of  the 
basin  of  the  Mississippi,  without  obstruction  from  rock 
or  mountain,  may  be  calculated  with  the  utmost  preci- 
sion. Whenever  the  course  of  a  river  diverges  in  any 
degree  from  a  right  line,  it  is  evident  that  the  current 
can  no  longer  act  with  equal  force  on  both  its  banks. 


PROGRESSING  CHANGES.  397 

On  one  side  the  impulse  is  diminished,  on  the  other  in- 
creased. The  tendency  in  these  sinuosities,  therefore,  is 
manifestly  to  increase,  and  the  stream  which  hollows  out 
a  portion  of  one  bank  being  rejected  to  the  other,  the 
process  of  curvature  is  still  continued,  till  its  channel 
presents  an  almost  unvarying  succession  of  salient  and 
retiring  angles. 

In  the  Mississippi  the  flexures  are  so  extremely  great, 
that  it  often  happens  that  the  isthmus  which  divides  dif- 
ferent portions  of  the  river  gives  way.  A  few  months 
before  my  visit  to  the  south,  a  remarkable  case  of  this 
kind  had  happened,  by  which  forty  mHes  of  navigation 
had  been  saved.  The  opening  thus  formed  was  called  the 
new  cut;  and  it  was  matter  of  debate  between  the  Cap- 
tain and  pilot  whether  we  should  not  pass  through  it. 

Even  the  annual  changes  which  take  place  in  the  bed 
of  the  Mississippi  are  very  remarkable.  Islands  spring 
up  and  disappear;  shoals  suddenly  present  themselves 
where  pilots  have  been  accustomed  to  deep  water;  in 
many  places  whole  acres  are  swept  away  from  one  bank 
and  added  to  the  other;  and  the  pilot  assured  me,  that  in 
every  voyage  he  could  perceive  fresh  changes. 

Many  circumstances  contribute  to  render  these  changes 
more  rapid  in  the  Mississippi  than  in  any  other  river. 
Among  these,  perhaps,  the  greatest  is  the  vast  volume  of 
its  waters,  acting  on  alluvial  matter,  peculiarly  penetra- 
ble. The  river,  when  in  flood,  spreads  over  the  neigh- 
bouring country,  in  which  it  has  formed  channels,  called 
bayous.  The  banks  thus  become  so  saturated  with  wa- 
ter, that  they  can  oppose  little  resistance  to  the  action 
of  the  current,  which  frequently  sweeps  off  large  por- 
tions of  the  forest. 

The  immense  quantity  of  drift-wood  is  another  cause 
of  change.  Floating  logs  encounter  some  obstacle  in  the 
river,  and  become  stationary.  The  mass  gradually  accu- 
mulates ;  the  water,  saturated  with  mud,  deposites  a  sedi- 
ment, and  thus  an  island  is  formed,  which  soon  becomes 
covered  with  vegetation.  About  ten  years  ago  the  Mis- 
sissippi was  surveyed  by  order  of  the  Government;  and 
its  islands,  from  the  confluence  of  the  Missouri  to  the 
sea,  were  numbered.  I  remember  asking  the  pilot  the 
name  of  a  very  beautiful  island,  and  the  answer  was, 


308  RAPID  TRANSITION  OF  CLIMATE. 

five  hundred  and  seventy-three,  the  number  assigned  to 
it  in  the  hydrographical  survey,  and  the  only  name  by 
which  it  was  known.  But,  in  the  course  of  these  ten 
years,  a  vast  variety  of  changes  have  taken  place,  and 
a  more  accurate  chart  has  become  highly  desirable. 

A  traveller  on  the  Mississippi  has  little  to  record  in  the 
way  of  incident.  For  a  week  we  continued  our  course, 
stopping  only  to  take  in  wood,  and,  on  one  occasion,  to 
take  in  cargo,  at  an  inconsiderable  place  called  Memphis, 
which  stands  on  one  of  the  few  bluffs  we  encountered 
in  our  progress.  At  length,  we  reached  Natchez,  a  town 
of  some  importance  in  the  State  of  Mississippi.  We 
only  halted  there  for  an  hour,  and  the  upper  town,  which 
stands  on  a  height  at  some  distance,  I  did  not  see.  But 
the  place  was  described  by  the  passengers  as  being  the 
scene  of  the  most  open  and  undisguised  profligacy.  All 
I  observed  in  the  lower  town,  certainly  gave  me  no  rea- 
son to  doubt  the  accuracy  of  the  description.  Taverns 
full  of  men  and  women  of  the  most  abandoned  habits, 
dancing,  drinking,  and  uttering  the  most  obscene  lan- 
guage, were  open  to  the  street.  I  was  advised  not  to 
walk  to  any  distance  from  the  landing-place,  for  the  risk 
of  being  robbed  was  considerable.  I  did,  however,  at- 
tempt to  reach  the  upper  town,  about  a  mile  off,  but  the 
bell  announcing  preparation  for  departure  arrested  my 
progress. 

One  of  the  most  striking  circumstances  connected  with 
this  river  voyage,  was  the  rapid  change  of  climate.  Bare- 
ly ten  days  had  elapsed  since  I  was  traversing  mountains 
almost  impassable  from  snow.  Even  the  level  country 
was  partially  covered  with  it,  and  the  approach  of  spring 
had  not  been  heralded  by  any  symptom  of  vegetation. 
Yet,  in  little  more  than  a  week,  I  found  myself  in  the  re- 
gion of  the  sugar  cane! 

The  progress  of  this  transition  was  remarkable.  During 
the  first  two  days  of  the  voyage,  nothing  like  a  blossom 
or  a  green  leaf  was  to  be  seen.  On  the  third  slight  signs 
of  vegetation  were  visible  on  a  few  of  the  hardier  trees. 
These  gradually  became  more  general  as  we  approached 
the  Mississippi;  but  then,  though  our  course  lay  almost 
due  south,  little  change  was  apparent  for  a  day  or  two. 
But  after  passing  Memphis,  in  latitude  35°,  all  nature 


NEW  ORLEANS.  309 

became  alive.  The  trees  which  grew  on  any  little  emi- 
nence, or  which  did  not  spring  immediately  from  the 
swamp,  were  covered  with  foliage :  and  at  our  wooding 
times,  when  I  rambled  through  the  woods,  there  were  a 
thousand  shrubs  already  bursting  into  flower.  On  reach- 
ing the  lower  regions  of  the  Mississippi,  all  was  bright- 
ness and  verdure.  Summer  had  already  begun,  and  the 
heat  was  even  disagreeably  intense. 

Shortly  after  entering  Louisiana,  the  whole  wildness 
of  the  Mississippi  disappears.  The  banks  are  all  culti- 
vated, and  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  plantations  of  su- 
gar, cotton,  and  rice,  with  the  houses  of  their  owners, 
and  the  little  adjoining  hamlets  inhabited  by  the  slaves. 
Here  and  there  were  orchards  of  orange  trees,  but  these 
occurred  too  seldom  to  have  much  influence  on  the  land- 
scape. 

At  Baton  Rouge,  a  fort  of  some  strength,  which  com- 
mands the  navigation  of  the  river,  we  discharged  a  ma- 
jor and  a  few  private  soldiers  of  the  United  States  army, 
and  on  the  following  evening  I  found  myself  at  New  Or- 
leans. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

•         NEW  ORLEANS. 

I  LANDED  at  New  Orleans  on  the  22d  of  March.  The 
day  had  been  one  of  heavy  rain,  and  the  appearance  of 
the  city  was  by  no  means  prepossessing.  The  streets, 
being  generally  unpaved,  were  full  of  mud;  and  a  dense 
canopy  of  mist  shed  a  gloom  on  every  thing. 

We  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  accommodation.  The 
principal  hotel  is  that  of  Madame  Herries,  but  the  house 
was  already  full.  We  tried  three  others  with  no  better 
success,  and  the  streets  of  New  Orleans  are,  perhaps,  the 
last  in  the  world  in  which  a  gentleman  would  choose  to 
take  up  his  night's  lodging.  At  length,  the  keeper  of  a 
boarding-house  took  compassion  on  our  forlorn  condition. 
There  was  an  uninhabited  house,  she  said,  in  an  adjoin- 


310  CONDITION  OF  THE  STREETS. 

ing  street,  in  which  she  thought  she  could  prevail  on  the 
proprietor  to  furnish  us  with  apartments,  and,  at  meals, 
we  might  join  the  party  in  her  establishment. 

And  so  it  was  arranged.  The  rooms  were  bad,  and 
wretchedly  furnished,  but  they  were  quiet,  and  we  had 
an  old  and  ugly  female  slave  to  wait  on  us.  This  wo- 
man was  in  character  something  like  'the  withered  hags 
who  are  so  finely  introduced  in  the  Bride  of  Lammer- 
moor.  During  my  stay,  I  tried  every  means  to  extract 
a  smile  from  her,  but  without  success.  I  gave  her  mo- 
ney, but  that  would  not  do;  and  wine,  of  which,  on  one 
occasion  she  drank  two  tumblers,  with  no  better  effect. 
By  way  of  recommending  the  lodgings,  she  told  me  three 
gentlemen  had  died  in  them  during  the  last  autumn  of 
yellow  fever.  "  Two  were  Englishmen,"  she  added, 
"  and  she  herself  had  laid  out  their  corpses  on  that  very 
table !"  In  short,  though  she  did  not  often  choose  to  con- 
verse, whenever  the  fit  was  on  her,  she  displayed  great 
tact  and  discrimination  in  the  selection  of  topics. 

The  morning  after  my  arrival  was  bright  and  beautiful, 
and  I  sallied  forth  to 


-"  view  the  manners  of  the  town, 


Peruse  the  traders,  gaze  upon  the  buildings, 
And  wander  up  and  down  to  view  the  city. 

It  would  be  absurd  to  call  New  Orleans  a  handsome  city. 
It  is  not  so.  The  streets  are  generally  narrow,  and  al- 
ways filthy;  and  with  the  exception  'of  the  cathedral, 
there  are  no  public  buildings  of  any  magnitude.  But 
in  comparison  with  such  cities  as  those  to  which  I  had 
been  accustomed  in  the  United  States,  the  general  aspect 
of  New  Orleans  may  be  called  picturesque.  The  archi- 
tecture of  the  older  sections  of  the  city  is  Spanish,  and 
when  Louisiana  came  into  possession  of  France,  the  ori- 
ginal taste  in  building  seems  still  to  have  predominated. 
The  houses  are  generally  of  one  story,  and  the  principal 
apartment  opens  at  once  on  the  street.  They  are  built 
of  wood,  but  here  and  there  edifices  of  greater  preten- 
sion, covered  with  stucco,  and  adorned  with  verandas, 
give  something  of  pleasing  variety. 

In  this  quarter  of  the  city  reside  the  French  and  Spa- 
nish portion  of  the  population;  that  occupied  by  the  An- 


CHARACTER  OF  NEW  ORLEANS.  31 J 

glo-Americans,  has  no  attraction  of  any  kind.  The 
streets  are  wider,  but  unpaved;  the  houses  larger,  but 
bare  and  unseemly,  and  their  internal  superiority  of  com- 
fort has  been  gained  at  the  expense  of  external  effect. 

The  condition  of  the  streets  in  the  greater  part  of  New- 
Orleans,  is,  indeed,  an  absolute  nuisance.  There  are 
brick  trottoirs,  but  the  carriage-way  is  left  in  a  state  of 
nature.  The  consequence  is,  that  after  rain — and  the 
climate  is  particularly  humid — the  centre  of  the  street 
is  at  least  a  foot  thick  of  mud,  through  which,  foot-pas- 
sengers, when  desirous  of  crossing,  must  either  wade 
up  to  their  knees,  or  set  off  on  a  wild  goose  chase  after 
stepping-stones,  perhaps  a  mile  distant,  which  may  ena- 
ble them — if  they  can  jump  like  a  kangaroo — to  get 
over  dry-shod. 

In  other  respects,  I  must  say  New  Orleans  is  not  an 
uncomfortable  place.  The  American  hotels  are  bad,  but 
there  is  an  admirable  French  restaurateur,  whose  esta- 
blishment is  conducted  in  a  style  far  superior  to  any 
thing  I  had  seen  in  the  United  States.  When  not  other- 
wise engaged,  I  generally  dined  there,  either  alone,  or 
with  a  companion,  instead  of  scrambling  at  the  public 
table  of  the  boarding-house. 

There  is  an  old  proverb,  "  give  a  dog  a  bad  name  and 
hang  him."  The  proverb  is  as  applicable  to  cities  as  to 
dogs,  and,  unfortunately,  New  Orleans  has  got  a  bad 
name.  I  have  nothing  to  say  which  can  make  it  any 
worse,  and,  perhaps,  not  much  which  would  induce  a 
very  rigid  moralist  to  delay  execution.  But  I  can  bear 
witness  that  New  Orleans  contains  a  very  well-bred  and 
hospitable  circle,  where  a  traveller  will  meet  more  easy 
politeness  than  in  most  cities  of  the  Union. 

Both  the  language  and  manners  are  French.  Few  of 
the  Creole  ladies  can  speak  English,  and  still  fewer  of 
the  slaves.  The  latter  jabber  a  sort  of  patois  unlike  any 
thing  I  ever  heard  in  France,  though  my  intercourse  with 
the  French  peasantry  has  been  tolerably  extensive. 

The  situation  of  New  Orleans  is  admirably  adapted 
for  commerce.  It  is  and  must  be  the  great  port  of  the 
south,  as  New  York  is  of  the  north  and  centre  of  the 
Union.  The  Western  States  enjoy  a  ready  communi- 
cation with  both;  with  the  former,  by  the  Ohio  and  Mis- 


312  LEGISLATURE, 

sissippi;  with  the  latter,  by  means  of  canals  which  now 
connect  the  Ohio  with  Lake  Erie,  and  Lake  Erie  with 
the  Hudson.  The  city  stands  on  a  bed  of  alluvium  on 
the  eastern  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  about  a  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  from  the  sea.  It's  population  is  about  fifty 
thousand,  and  the  number  of  slaves  is  very  great. 

I  fear  the  standard  of  morals  in  New  Orleans  cannot 
be  rated  very  high.  Yet  in  no  city  are  the  externals  of 
decorum  more  rigidly  maintained.  The  eye  is  never 
shocked  by  any  public  display  of  indecency;  and  the 
coloured  women,  whatever  may  be  their  laxity  of  prin- 
ciple, are  careful  to  maintain  at  least  the  outward  sem- 
blance of  virtue.  I  had  heard  a  great  deal  of  the  beauty 
of  these  persons,  but  cannot  profess  having  been  at  all 
smitten  with  their  charms.  One  often  meets  a  fine 
figure  among  them,  but  rarely  a  fine  countenance.  The 
skin  is  dingy,  and  the  features  are  coarse.  Something 
of  the  negro  always  remains — the  long  heel — the  woolly 
hair — the  flat  nose — the  thick  lips — or  the  peculiar  form 
of  the  head. 

The  Creole  ladiep,  on  the  other  hand,  certainly  struck 
me  as  handsome.  They,  too,  are  dark,  but  their  com- 
plexion is  clear,  not  clouded,  like  that  of  the  Quadroons. 
Their  figure  is  light  and  graceful,  and  with  fine  teeth, 
and  an  eye,  large,  dark,  and  bright,  they  must  be  ad- 
mitted to  possess  quite  as  much  attraction  as  the  New 
Orleans  gentlemen  deserve.  The  effects  of  this  ener- 
vating climate,  however,  are  visible  enough.  The  Creole 
ladies  speak  with  a  sort  of  languid  drawl;  their  motions 
want  energy  and  briskness,  and  the  efficacy  of  their 
charms  might,  perhaps,  be  increased  by  a  little  more 
animation. 

During  my  stay  at  New  Orleans  the  legislature  was  in 
session,  and  I  occasionally  visited  both  houses.  The 
mode  of  proceeding  struck  me  as  curious.  The  Creoles 
speak  French,  and  the  Americans  English,  neither  un- 
derstanding the  language  of  the  other.  Whenever  a 
speech  is  concluded,  an  interpreter  gives  as  perfect  a 
version  of  it  as  his  memory  can  command.  The  time 
thus  lost  is  enormous  under  any  circumstances,  but  when 
the  debate  becomes  personal,  it  has  at  least  the  advantage 
of  giving  members  time  to  cool. 


THEATRES— CHURCHES.  313 

On  one  occasion,  however,  the  discussion  was  con- 
ducted with  a  good  deal  of  acrimony,  and  the  scene  he- 
came  ludicrous  enough.  A  French  gentleman,  when  I 
entered  the  house,  was  delivering  an  energetic  oration, 
impugning  both  the  conduct  and  motives  of  an  American. 
The  latter  during  the  whole  time  remained  apparently 
in  happy  ignorance,  both  of  the  nature  and  extent  of  the 
punishment  of  which  he  was  the  object. 

At  length  the  honourable  gentleman  sat  down,  and 
the  chief  heads  of  his  speech  and  arguments  were  de- 
tailed in  English  by  the  interpreter.  The  American 
then  became,  as  they  say  in  Scotland,  "  neither  to  hold 
nor  to  bind."  He  instantly  commenced  not  only  a  ve- 
hement defence  of  himself,  but  an  attack  on  his  opponent, 
in  a  language  of  which  the  latter  seemed  to  understand 
precisely  as  much  as  he  did  of  Sanscrit.  In  short,  I  know 
of  no  body  to  whom  the  gift  of  tongues  could  be  so  use- 
ful as  the  legislature  of  Louisiana. 

There  is  a  French  and  an  English  theatre  in  New 
Orleans.  The  former  is  tenanted  by  a  very  tolerable  set 
of  comedians,  who  play  musical  pieces  and  Vaudevilles 
with  a  great  deal  of  spirit.  The  company  of  the  English 
theatre  was  altogether  wretched.  1  saw  Damon  and 
Pythias  represented  to  a  full  house.  Damon  was  so 
drunk  that  he  could  scarcely  stand,  and  Pythias  displayed 
his  friendship  in  assisting  him  off  the  stage. 

As  in  most  Catholic  countries,  Sunday  is  the  great  day 
for  amusements  of  every  kind.  The  shops  are  open;  the 
market  displays  unusual  attractions,  and  the  sounds  of 
merriment  and  music  are  heard  in  every  street.  In  the 
morning,  three-fourths  of  the  population  run  to  hear 
mass,  and  the  cathedral  is  crowded  by  people  of  all  co- 
lours, in  their  best  and  gayest  attire.  In  a  European 
city  the  cathedral  would  probably  pass  without  notice. 
In  New  Orleans  it  is  a  prominent  object.  As  a  building, 
it  is  full  of  inconsistencies,  and  the  interior  presents  no- 
thing to  arrest  the  attention.  The  decorations  of  the 
altars  are  gewgaw  enough,  and  there  is  no  sculpture. 

Both  Catholic  and  Protestant  agree  in  the  tenet  that 
all  men  are  equal  in  the  sight  of  God,  but  the  former 
alone  gives  practical  exemplification  of  his  creed.  In  a 
Catholic  church  the  prince  and  the  peasant,  the  slave  and 

40 


314  CATHOLIC  PRIESTS. 

his  master,  kneel  before  the  same  altar,  in  temporary  ob- 
livion of  all  worldly  distinctions.  They  come  there  but 
in  one  character,  that  of  sinners;  and  no  rank  is  felt  or  ac- 
knowledged but  that  connected  with  the  offices  of  religion. 
Within  these  sacred  precincts  the  vanity  of  the  rich  man 
receives  no  incense;  the  proud  are  not  flattered,  the  hum- 
ble are  not  abashed.  The  stamp  of  degradation  is  oblite- 
rated from  the  forehead  of  the  slave,  when  he  beholds 
himself  admitted  to  community  of  worship  with  the 
highest  and  noblest  in  the  land. 

But  in  Protestant  churches  a  different  rule  prevails. 
People  of  colour  are  either  excluded  altogether,  or  are 
mewed  up  in  some  remote  corner,  separated  by  barriers 
from  the  body  of  the  church.  It  is  impossible  to  forget 
their  degraded  condition  even  for  a  moment.  It  is 
brought  home  to  their  feelings  in  a  thousand  ways.  No 
white  Protestant  would  kneel  at  the  same  altar  with  a 
black  one.  He  asserts  his  superiority  every  where,  and 
the  very  hue  of  his  religion  is  affected  by  the  colour  of 
his  skin. 

From  the  hands  of  the  Catholic  priest,  the  poor  slave 
receives  all  the  consolations  of  religion.  He  is  visited 
in  sickness,  and  consoled  in  affliction;  his  dying  lips  re- 
ceive the  consecrated  wafer;  and  in  the  very  death-agony, 
the  last  voice  that  meets  his  ear  is  that  of  his  priest  ut- 
tering the  sublime  words,  "Depart,  Christian  soul." 
Can  it  be  wondered,  therefore,  that  the  slaves  in  Louis- 
iana are  all  Catholics;  that  while  the  congregation  of  the 
Protestant  church  consists  of  a  few  ladies,  arranged  in 
well-cushioned  pews,  the  whole  floor  of  the  extensive 
cathedral  should  be  crowded  with  worshippers  of  all  co- 
lours and  classes? 

From  all  I  could  learn,  the  zeal  of  the  Catholic  priests 
is  highly  exemplary.  They  never  forget  that  the  most 
degraded  of  human  forms  is  animated  by  a  soul,  as  pre- 
cious in  the  eye  of  religion,  as  that  of  the  sovereign  Pon- 
tiff The  arms  of  the  church  are  never  closed  against 
the  meanest  outcast  of  society.  Divesting  themselves  of 
all  pride  of  caste,  they  mingle  with  the  slaves,  and  cer- 
tainly understand  their  character  far  better  than  any 
other  body  of  religious  teachers.  I  am  not  a  Catholic, 
but  I  cannot  suffer  prejudice  of  any  sort  to  prevent  my 


YELLOW  FEVER.  315 

doing  justice  to  a  body  of  Christian  ministers,  whose  zeal 
can  be  animated  by  no  hope  of  worldly  reward,  and 
whose  humble  lives  are  passed  in  diffusing  the  influence 
of  divine  truth,  and  communicating  to  the  meanest  and 
most  despised  of  mankind  the  blessed  comforts  of  religion. 
These  men  publish  no  periodical  enumeration  of  their 
converts.  The  amount,  and  the  success  of  their  silent 
labours,  is  not  illustrated  in  the  blazon  of  missionary  soci- 
eties, nor  are  they  rhetorically  set  forth  in  the  annual 
speeches  of  Lord  Roden  or  Lord  Bexley.  And  yet  we 
may  surely  assert,  that  not  the  least  of  these  labours  is 
forgotten.  Their  record  is,  where  their  reward  will  be. 

New  Orleans  and  yellow  fever  are  as  inseparably  con- 
nected as  ham  and  chicken,  and  the  writer  who  records 
his  impressions  of  the  one,  is  expected  to  say  something 
of  the  other.  I  believe  at  no  season  of  the  year  is  New 
Orleans  a  healthy  place  of  residence.  The  exhalations 
from  the  Mississippi,  and  the  vast  swamps  by  which  it  is 
surrounded,  taint  the  atmosphere  continually,  and  the 
variation  at  different  seasons  is  only  in  degree.  Even  in 
March  the  air  of  New  Orleans  is  manifestly  unhealthy. 
It  is  sometimes  so  thick  and  impregnated  with  vapour, 
that  the  lungs  play  with  difficulty,  and  the  effect  of  such 
weather  on  the  animal  economy  is  very  perceptible.  The 
skin  is  clammy  even  in  repose,  and  the  slightest  exertion 
brings  on  profuse  perspiration.  For  myself,  I  could  not 
walk  a  quarter  of  a  mile  without  feeling  a  degree  of  las- 
situde to  which  I  had  never  been  accustomed.  The  re- 
source under  such  circumstances  is  generous  diet  and  a 
sofa,  but  the  only  absolute  cure  is  a  brisk  north-wester, 
which,  by  clearing  off  the  impurities  of  the  atmosphere, 
at  once  restores  the  patient  to  his  natural  functions. 

It  is  not,  however,  till  the  heats  of  summer  are  con- 
siderably advanced,  that  the  yellow  fever  appears  in  its 
terrors.  It  comes  in  silence,  and  steals,  as  it  were,  una- 
wares into  the  city.  The  sky  is  bright,  and  the  wea- 
ther beautiful.  The  city  is  reported  healthy,  and  busi- 
siness  and  pleasure  proceed  with  accelerated  impulse. 
In  such  circumstances,  a  report  probably  spreads,  that  a 
sailor  on  board  of  one  of  the  vessels  at  the  river,  has  been 
stricken  with  this  fearful  malady.  On  the  following  day, 
the  rumour  of  fresh  cases  becomes  prevalent,  but  the  in*- 


316  MODE  OF  BURIAL. 

habitants  comfort  themselves  that  these  have  been  ex- 
clusively confined  to  the  shipping.  Even  of  this  consola- 
tion, however,  they  are  shortly  deprived.  The  disease 
appears  simultaneously  in  various  quarters  of  the  city, 
through  which  it  stalks  like  a  destroying  angel,  spreading 
havoc  and  desolation. 

The  Creoles  are  entirely  exempt  from  its  ravages. 
The  chief  victims  are  Europeans,  and  natives  of  the 
.Northern  States.  Of  these,  not  one  in  twenty  escapes 
attack;  and  of  those  attacked,  not  above  two-thirds  sur- 
vive. The  latter  are  then  considered  to  be  what  is  called 
"  acclimated,"  and  are  not  liable  to  a  recurrence  of  the 
disease,  unless  their  constitution  be  again  changed  by  a 
residence  in  a  colder  climate. 

One  of  the  curiosities  which  all  strangers  should  see — 
and  which  too  many  of  them  visit  without  seeing — is  the 
public  burying-ground,  about  half  a  mile  from  the  city. 

It  is  simply  a  portion  of  the  surrounding  swamp,  and, 
though  very  extensive,  is  not  found  too  large  for  the 
wants  of  the  population.  There  are  always  some  twenty 
or  thirty  graves,  of  different  sizes,  kept  open  on  specula- 
tion; so  that  there  is  no  doubt  of  any  gentleman,  who 
chooses  to  die  in  a  hurry,  finding  accommodation  at  the 
shortest  notice.  One  acquires  from  habit  a  sort  of  lurk- 
ing prejudice  in  favour  of  being  buried  in  dry  ground, 
which  is  called  into  full  action  by  a  sight  of  this  New 
Orleans  cemetery.  The  spade  cannot  penetrate  even  a 
few  inches  below  the  surface,  without  finding  water,  and 
considerable  difficulty  is  experienced  in  sinking  the  cof- 
fins, since  the  whole  neighbourhood  could  not  furnish  a 
stone  the  size  of  an  orange. 

Such  a  disposal  of  the  dead  may  more  properly  be 
termed  inundation  than  interment,  and  there  is  something 
so  offensive  to  the  imagination  in  the  whole  process,  and 
in  the  idea  of  being  devoured  by  the  craw-fish,  which  bur- 
row in  myriads,  that  the  richer  people  generally  prefer 
being  kept  above  the  level,  both  of  ground  and  water,  in 
little  buildings  like  ovens,  composed  of  brick  and  plaster, 
without  ornament  of  any  sort.  Altogether,  those  who  are 
content  to  live  in  New  Orleans,  may  be  content  to  be  bu- 
ried there  when  they  die.  I  confess  my  own  inclination 
prompted  me  to  neither,  and  I  quitted  the  cemetery  with 
the  firm  resolution  of  never  eating  another  craw-fish,  with 


SLAVE  AUCTION.  317 

whatever  attractions  the  skill  of  the  cook  may  have  in- 
vested it. 

There  are  slave  auctions  almost  every  day  in  the  New 
Orleans  Exchange.  I  was  frequently  present,  at  these, 
and  the  man  who  wants  an  excuse  for  misanthropy,  will 
nowhere  discover  better  reason  for  hating  and  despising 
his  species.  The  usual  process  differs  in  nothing  from  that 
of  selling  a  horse.  The  poor  object  of  traffic  is  mounted 
on  a  table;  intending  purchasers  examine  his  points,  and 
put  questions  as  to  his  age,  health,  &c.  The  auctioneer 
dilates  on  his  value,  enumerates  his  accomplishments,  and 
when  the  hammer  at  length  falls,  protests,  in  the  usual 
phrase,  that  poor  Sambo  has  been  absolutely  thrown 
away.  When  a  woman  is  sold,  he  usually  puts  his  audi- 
ence in  good  humour  by  a  few  indecent  jokes. 

One  of  the  first  human  beings  whom  I  happened  to  see 
thus  sold  was  a  poor  woman,  apparently  dying  of  a  con- 
sumption. She  was  emaciated,  her  voice  was  husky  and 
feeble,  and  her  proper  place  was,  evidently,  the  hospi- 
tal. It  was  with  difficulty  she  was  raised  upon  the  table, 
"  Now,  gentlemen,  here  is  Mary !"  said  the  auctioneer ; 
"  a  clever  house-servant  and  an  excellent  cook.  Bid  me 
something  for  this  valuable  lot.  She  has  only  one  fault, 
gentlemen,  and  that  is  shamming  sick.  She  pretends  to 
be  ill,  but  there  is  nothing  more  the  matter  with  her  than 
there  is  with  me  at  this  moment.  Put  her  up,  gentle- 
men— shall  I  say  a  hundred  dollars  to  begin  with  1  Will 
nobody  say  a  hundred  dollars  for  Mary,  a  clever  servant 
and  excellent  cook?  Thank  you,  sir,  fifty — well,  fifty 
dollars  is  bid  for  her."  Here  the  auctioneer  stopped  for 
a  minute  or  two,  while  several  men  began  feeling  the 
poor  woman's  ribs,  and  putting  questions  as  to  her  health. 

'  Are  you  well?"  asked  one  man. 

'  Oh,  no,  I  am  very  ill." 

'  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

'  I  have  a  bad  cough  and  pain  in  my  side." 

'  How  long  have  you  had  it  ?" 

'  Three  months  and  more." 

Here  the  auctioneer,  finding  such  interrogatories  did 
not  tend  to  enhance  the  value  of  the  lot,  again  went  on. 
"  Never  mind  what  she  says,  gentlemen,  I  told  you  she 
was  a  shammer.  Her  health  is  good  enough.  Damn  her 
humbug.  Give  her  a  touch  or  two  of  the  cow-hide,  and 


318  SLAVERY. 

I'll  warrant  she'll  do  your  work.  Speak,  gentlemen,  be- 
fore I  knock  her  down.  Seventy  dollars  only,  bid, — go- 
ing, going,  going,  gone !"  The  sale  concluded  amid  sun- 
dry jests  at  the  expense  of  the  purchaser.  "A  bloody 
good  lot  of  skin  and  bone,"  said  one.  "  I  guess  that  'ere 
woman  will  soon  be  food  for  the  land-crabs,"  said  another ; 
and  amid  such  atrocious  merriment  the  poor  dying  crea- 
ture was  led  off 

If  such  scenes  are  acted  in  a  Christian  country,  it  is  the 
duty  of  every  traveller  to  take  care,  at  least,  that  they 
shall  not  be  done  in  a  corner,  that  they  shall  be  pro- 
claimed loudly  to  the  world,  and  that  those  who  perpe- 
trate the  enormities  shall  receive  their  due  meed  of  in- 
dignation and  contempt. 

The  time  is  past  when  it  was  necessary  to  write  whole 
volumes,  in  illustration  of  the  evils  and  injustice  of  sla- 
very. These  are  now  admitted  and  confessed  by  every 
one.  They  are  so  great  as  to  admit  of  no  exaggeration 
by  eloquence,  nor  of  palliation  or  concealment  by  sophis- 
try. Public  opinion  in  England  requires  no  stimulus. 

I  feel  anxious,  that  writing  on  this  subject  I  should  be 
clearly  understood.  It  may  not  be  a  crime — it,  proba- 
bly, ought  not  to  be  charged  as  one — in  the  American 
people,  that  slavery  still  exists  in  by  far  the  larger  por- 
tion of  the  territory  of  the  Union.  But  now  when  the 
United  States  have  enjoyed  upwards  of  half  a  century 
of  almost  unbroken  prosperity,  when  their  people,  as 
they  themselves  declare,  are  the  most  moral,  the  most 
benevolent,  the  most  enlightened  in  the  world,  we  are 
surely  entitled  to  demand,  what  have  this  people  done 
for  the  mitigation  of  slavery?  what  have  they  done  to 
elevate  the  slave  in  the  scale  of  moral  and  intellectual 
being,  and  to  prepare  him  for  the  enjoyment  of  those 
privileges  to  which,  sooner  or  later,  the  coloured  popu- 
lation must  be  admitted? 

The  answer  to  these  questions  unfortunately  may  be 
comprised  in  one  word — NOTHING.  Nothing  during  all 
this  period  has  been  done  to  raise  the  slave  to  the  digni- 
ty of  a  rational  and  responsible  being,  or  to  mitigate  the 
horrors  of  his  servitude;  nothing  for  the  subversion  of 
ignorant  and  degrading  prejudice;  nothing  to  remove 
from  themselves  and  their  posterity  the  reproach  of  a 
system  which  withers  up  all  the  better  sympathies  of 


SLAVERY.  319 

our  nature.  The  voice  of  justice  and  humanity  has 
been  raised  in  vain;  and  it  may  safely  be  predicted,  that 
while  the  progress  of  intelligence  is  confessedly  incom- 
patible with  slavery,  its  last  stronghold  will  be  found, 
not  in  Portugal — not  in  Turkey  or  Algiers — but  in  the 
United  States. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  slavery  has  been  abolished  in 
many  States  of  the  Union,  and  that  in  others  recently 
established  it  has  never  existed.  Let  the  merit — what- 
ever be  its  amount — of  an  enlightened  appreciation  of 
their  own  interests,  be  at  once  freely  conceded  to  these 
States.  Still,  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  slavery  has  only 
ceased  in  those  portions  of  the  Union,  in  which  it  was 
practically  found  to  be  a  burden  on  the  industry  and  re- 
sources of  the  country.  Wherever  it  was  found  profit- 
able, there  it  has  remained;  there  it  is  to  be  found  at 
the  present  day,  in  all  its  pristine  and  unmitigated  fero- 
city. Where  its  abolition  involved  no  sacrifice,  slavery 
has  disappeared;  but  wherever  justice  was  to  be  done  at 
the  expense  of  the  pocket,  the  nuisance,  so  far  from  be- 
ing abated,  has  gone  on  increasing,  and  has  become  root- 
ed more  widely  and  more  deeply  in  the  passions  and  pre- 
judices of  the  people. 

I  have  said,  that  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the  Nor- 
thern, and  some  of  the  Central  States,  has  involved  no 
sacrifice.  Let  me  explain  this.  When  Pennsylvania, 
for  instance,  abolished  slavery,  she  passed  an  act,  that, 
after  a  certain  number  of  years  all  the  slaves  within  her 
territory  should  be  manumitted.  What  was  the  conse- 
quence? Why,  that  the  great  body  of  the  slaves  belong- 
ing to  Pennsylvanian  proprietors  were  in  the  mean  time 
exported  and  sold  in  other  States,  and  when  the  day  of 
liberation  came,  those  who  actually  profited  by  it,  were 
something  like  the  patients  who  visited  the  pool  of  Be- 
thesda, — the  blind,  the  halt,  the  maimed,  the  decrepit, 
whom  it  really  required  no  great  exercise  of  generosity 
to  turn  about  their  business,  with  an  injunction  to  pro- 
vide thereafter  for  their  own  maintenance. 

I  admit  that  the  question  of  the  abolition  of  slavery  in 
the  United  States,  is  involved  in  peculiar  difficulties, 
nor  do  I  pretend  to  suggest  any  project  by  which  it  may 
be  safely,  and  even  remotely  effected.  But  there  are 


320  RESULTS  OF  SLAVERY. 

some  crying  evils  on  which  immediate  legislation  is  im- 
periously demanded.  The  first  of  these  is  undoubtedly 
the  slave  trade. 

When  I  speak  of  the  slave  trade,  I  do  not  allude  to 
the  importation  of  slaves  from  abroad,  but  to  the  inter- 
nal traffic  which  is  carried  on  between  the  different 
States.  Some  of  these,  in  which  the  climate  is  healthy, 
and  the  cultivation  of  the  soil  easy,  are  slave-breeders;  not 
for  their  own  consumption  only,  but  for  that  of  others, 
in  which  the  climate  is  deadly  and  the  labour  severe. 
The  cultivation  of  sugar  in  Louisiana,  for  instance,  is 
carried  on  at  an  enormous  expense  of  human  life.  Plan- 
ters must  buy  to  keep  up  their  stock,  and  this  supply 
principally  comes  from  Maryland,  Virginia,  and  North 
Carolina.  On  my  return  from  New  Orleans,  by  the 
coast,  I  met  a  whole  drove  of  these  miserable  creatures, 
chained  together  like  felons,  and  driven  on  like  brute 
beasts  by  the  lash.  In  God's  name  let  this  unhallowed 
traffic  be  put  a  stop  to.  Let  not  men's  eyes  be  shocked 
by  sights  so  atrocious.  Let  not  one  state  furnish  mate- 
rials for  the  cruelties  of  another,  and  by  a  system  of  wise 
legislation  let  humanity  be  made  the  interest,  as  it  is  the 
duty,  of  all. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  decide  whether  slavery  is  most 
to  be  lamented  for  the  injustice  perpetrated  towards  those 
who  are  its  victims,  or  for  its  depraving  influence  on  the 
class  by  whom  that  injustice  is  inflicted.  The  question 
must  be  decided  by  nicer  casuists  than  I  pretend  to  be. 
But  sure  I  am  that  the  evils  of  this  detestable  system  cannot 
be  exaggerated  by  the  most  fervid  imagination.  It  will 
scarcely  be  believed,  that  in  the  United  States  it  is  com- 
mon for  fathers  to  sell  their  children,  for  sons  to  sell  their 
brothers  and  their  sisters ;  and  that  atrocities  so  heinous 
are  unvisited  by  public  indignation  or  contempt.  And 
yet  it  is  so.  The  smallest  infusion  of  negro  blood  is  held 
to  abrogate,  not  only  the  charities  of  life,  but  the  lies  of 
nature.  I  will  not  enlarge  on  this  subject.  It  is  too 
hateful  and  too  odious.  But  in  the  name  of  consistency 
and  common  sense,  either  let  such  enormities  cease  to  be 
perpetrated  in  the  United  States,  or  let  the  word  morality 
be  at  once  erased  from  the  American  vocabulary. 

I  did  intend  to  have  made  some  observations  on  the  sa- 


FEELING  IN  REGARD  TO  SLAVERY.  331 

vage  character  of  the  slave  codes  of  the  different  States, 
but  I  write  for  the  British  public,  and  the  task  has  become 
unnecessary.  Still,  I  would  earnestly  call  on  every  Eng- 
lishman who  has  partaken  in  the  delusion  that  the  aboli- 
tion, or  even  the  mitigation  of  slavery,  may  be  safely 
trusted  to  the  humanity  of  those  whose  immediate  inter- 
ests are  connected  with  its  continuance,  to  look  to  the 
condition  of  the  slaves  in  the  United  States.  I  again  re- 
peat, that  I  do  not  charge  it  as  a  reproach  on  the  inhabit- 
ants that  slavery  should  still  exist  in  their  territory,  but 
I  own  I  do  consider  it  as  involving  national  disgrace,  that 
during  half  a  century  no  steps  have  been  taken,  I  will  not 
say  for  its  abolition,  but  even  for  its  mitigation.  At  the 
present  hour,  slavery  is  seen  in  the  United  States,  decked 
out  in  every  horrible  attribute  with  which  the  imagina- 
tion of  man  ever  invested  it.  And,  after  all,  it  is  perhaps 
better  for  the  ultimate  interests  of  humanity  that  it  should 
be  so.  It  is  better  that  the  front  of  the  image  should  be 
of  brass,  while  its  feet  are  of  clay.  To  suppose  that  sla- 
very can  long  continue  in  this  country  when  other  nations 
shall  have  freed  themselves  from  the  foulest  stain  which 
has  ever  polluted  their  humanity,  is  to  contemplate  a  pe- 
riod when  the  United  States  will  become  a  nuisance  upon 
earth,  and  an  object  of  hatred  and  derision  to  the  whole 
world. 

It  is  only  fair  to  state  that,  during  the  whole  course  of 
my  tour,  I  never  conversed  with  any  American  on  the 
subject  of  slavery  without  his  at  once  admitting  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  evil.  The  planters  uniformly  speak  of  it  as 
a  noxious  exhalation,  by  which  the  whole  atmosphere  is 
poisoned.  "  Yet  what  is  to  be  done  1"  they  ask.  "  You 
express  yourself  shocked  by  the  existence  of  slavery;  have 
you  formed  any  plan  for  its  abolition  ?  Can  you  see  even 
a  glimmering  of  light  through  the  darkness  by  which  this 
awful  subject  is  surrounded  1  At  all  events,  do  not  sup- 
pose that  we  maintain  slavery  in  our  territory  from  choice. 
Far  from  it.  We  regard  those  States  where  this  curse  is 
unknown  with  envy.  We  would  gladly  become  as  they 
are,  but  cannot.  We  are  slave-holders  by  compulsion 
alone.  As  such,  let  us  be  treated  with  candour  and  fair- 
ness. If  you  can  suggest  any  remedy,  we  shall  be  glad 
to  hear  it;  if  you  cannot,  cease  to  inveigh  against  an  in- 

41 


322  CONSEQUENCES  OF  ABOLITION. 

evilable  evil,  for  which  the  collective  wisdom  of  mankind 
has  yet  discovered  no  cure." 

There  is  much  that  is  reasonable  in  all  this,  mixed  up 
with  a  little  misrepresentation,  and  as  few  men  travel 
about  with  a  plan  for  the  abolition  of  American  slavery, 
cut  and  dry  in  their  pocket,  it  no  doubt  acts  in  conversa- 
tion as  a  convenient  stopper  on  a  great  deal  of  froth, 
which  might  otherwise  be  discharged  on  so  tempting  a 
subject.  But  though  it  be  unquestionably  true  that  the 
slave-holders  are  in  favour  of  abolition,  it  is  abolition  of 
a  peculiar  kind,  which  must  be  at  once  cheap  and  profita- 
ble; which  shall  peril  no  interest,  and  offend  no  preju- 
dice; and  which,  in  liberating  the  slave,  shall  enrich  his 
master.  It  is  needless  to  say,  that  the  dream  of  Alnas- 
char,  in  the  Arabian  nights,  pictured  nothing  more  vision- 
ary than  such  an  abolition.  Let  slavery  be  abolished  when 
it  will,  and  how  it  will,  by  slow  degrees,  or  by  one 
sweeping  and  decisive  measure  of  emancipation,  the  im- 
mediate interests  of  the  planters  must  be  injuriously  af- 
fected. By  no  process  can  the  injustice  of  centuries  be 
repaired  without  sacrifice;  and  the  longer  this  reparation 
is  delayed,  the  sacrifice  demanded  will  be  greater. 

The  cessation  of  slavery  must  put  a  stop  to  the  culti- 
vation both  of  sugar  and  rice  in  the  United  States,  and 
the  compulsion  of  which  the  planters  speak,  is  the  com- 
pulsion of  money.  Large  tracts  of  the  Southern  States 
will  be  thrown  out  of  cultivation.  Two-thirds  of  their 
population  will  probably  migrate  to  the  West,  since  the 
cultivation  of  cotton,  the  great  staple,  must,  of  course, 
be  limited  by  the  demands  of  the  market,  which  can 
only  receive  considerable  increase  from  improvements  in 
the  process  of  manufacture. 

That  the  United  States,  as  a  nation,  would  be  prodi- 
giously benefited  by  the  abolition  of  slavery,  there  can  be 
no  doubt;  but  that  the  pecuniary  interests  of  the  planters 
is  decidedly  opposed  to  it,  is,  at  least,  equally  clear. 
How  long  these  men  can  hold  out  against  nature,  reli- 
gion, and  the  common  sympathies  of  mankind,  it  is  im- 
possible to  foresee.  My  own  conviction  is,  that  slavery  in 
this  country  can  only  be  eradicated  by  some  great  and 
terrible  convulsion.  The  sword  is  evidently  suspended ; 
it  will  fall  at  last. 


PROCESS  OF  SUGAR  CULTIVATION.  323 

From  New  Orleans  I  made  a  pleasant  excursion  to  a 
sugar  plantation,  about  eight  or  ten  miles  distant.  The 
road  lay  along  the  margin  of  the  river,  which  is  pre- 
vented from  inundating  the  country  by  embankment. 
Through  this  barrier,  however,  it  often  forces  its  way,  by 
what  are  called  crevasses,  or  small  fissures,  generally  oc- 
casioned, I  believe,  by  the  burrowing  of  craw-fish  or  wa- 
ter-rats. These  fissures,  by  the  pressure  of  the  water, 
soon  become  formidable  outlets;  and  the  whole  country, 
for  miles,  is  sometimes  overflowed  to  the  depth  of  several 
feet.  The  Mississippi,  too,  occasionally  overflows  its 
banks,  though  not  often,  I  believe,  to  such  extent  as  to 
occasion  serious  damage  to  the  neighbouring  plantations. 

The  country  is,  in  general,  cultivated  to  the  distance 
of  about  half  a  mile  from  the  river,  and  on  these  rich  al- 
luvial bottoms  are  the  sugar  plantations.  That  which  I 
visited,  though  not  one  of  the  largest,  was  extensive. 
The  family  were  of  French  origin,  and  few  of  its  mem- 
bers could  speak  English.  The  proprietor  took  me  over 
the  sugar  works,  and  I  looked  into  the  huts  of  his  ne- 
groes who  were  then  in  the  field.  He  gave  me  full  de- 
tails of  the  whole  process  of  sugar  cultivation,  which  he 
confessed  was  only  carried  on  at  an  appalling  sacrifice  of 
life.  At  the  season  when  the  canes  are  cut  and  the  boil- 
ers at  work,  the  slaves  are  compelled  to  undergo  inces- 
sant labour  for  about  six  weeks.  The  fatigue  is  so  great, 
that  nothing  but  the  severest  application  of  the  lash  can 
stimulate  the  human  frame  to  endure  it,  and  the  sugar 
season  is  uniformly  followed  by  a  great  increase  of  mor- 
tality among  the  slaves. 

The  climate  of  Louisiana  is  not  happily  adapted  for 
sugar  cultivation.  It  is  too  variable,  and  frosts  often 
come  on  in  November,  which  destroy  the  whole  saccha- 
rine matter  of  the  canes.  This  had  happened  the  sea- 
son before  my  visit,  and  I  saw  the  canes  of  nearly  half 
the  estate  rotting  on  the  ground.  The  crop,  in  Louisia- 
na, is  never  considered  safe  till  it  is  in  the  mill,  and  the 
consequence  is,  that  when  cutting  once  begins,  the  slaves 
are  taxed  beyond  their  strength,  and  are  goaded  to  la- 
bour, until  nature  absolutely  sinks  under  the  effort. 

The  poverty  of  the  planters,  too,  generally  prevents 
there  being  a  sufficient  stock  of  slaves  on  the  estates;  and 


324  DELTA  OP  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 

where  a  plantation  which  requires  two  hundred  and  fifty 
slaves,  is  cultivated  only  by  two  hundred,  it  is  very  evi- 
dent that  the  necessary  work  will  not  only  be  done 
worse,  but  that  it  will  be  done  at  a  greatly  increased  ex- 
penditure of  human  life.  Thus  the  tendency  of  the  slave 
population  in  Louisiana  is  to  diminish,  and,  but  for  im- 
portations from  the  northern  slave  States,  would,  under 
the  present  system,  become  extinct. 

I  passed  a  day  and  night  with  my  hospitable  enter- 
tainers, to  whose  kindness  I  felt  much  indebted.  It  is 
the  fashion  in  this  country  to  appoint  a  servant  to  attend 
upon  the  guests.  When  I  retired  for  the  night,  I  ob- 
served a  very  nice-looking  black  boy,  who,  after  setting 
down  my  candle  and  adjusting  the  pillows  of  the  bed, 
still  remained  standing  right  opposite  to  me  when  I  began 
to  undress.  I  bade  him  good-night,  but  he  still  showed 
no  inclination  to  move.  I  then  asked  why  he  remained, 
and  gathered  from  his  reply  that  it  is  by  no  means  usual  in 
this  country  for  a  white  person  to  perform  any  office  for 
himself  which  can  be  performed  by  deputy.  The  boy  said 
he  thought  I  should  like  some  one  to  assist  me  to  undress, 
but  I  assured  him  I  had  no  occasion  for  his  services  in 
any  capacity,  except  that  of  brushing  my  clothes  in  the 
morning.  He  then  took  leave,  though,  evidently,  not 
without  some  surprise  that  a  white  gentleman  should, 
under  any  circumstances,  condescend  to  pull  off  his  own 
stockings,  and  put  on  his  nightcap.  It  must  certainly  be 
ranked  among  the  minor  evils  of  slavery,  that  it  destroys 
all  personal  independence,  and  attaches  something  of  dis- 
grace to  the  discharge  of  the  most  ordinary  functions. 

Before  quitting  New  Orleans  I  made  a  trip  to  visit  the 
Delta  of  the  Mississippi,  in  one  of  the  steamers  employed 
in  towing  vessels  to  and  fr6m  the  mouth  of  the  river. 
Though  with  three  large  vessels  attached,  our  bark 
made  good  way  under  the  co-operative  influences  of 
steam  and  stream.  About  seven  miles  below  the  city  is 
the  field  of  battle.  It  is  a  plain  about  half  a  mile  in 
breadth,  bounded  by  the  Mississippi  on  one  side,  and  the 
forest  on  the  other.  Below  is  a  bend  of  the  river,  which, 
from  what  reason  I  know  not,  is  called  "  The  English 
Turn."  Plantations  continue  at  intervals  for  about  forty 
miles,  when  cultivation  entirely  ceases. 


FORMATION  OF  LAND.  335 

Below  this,  nature  is  to  be  seen  only  in  her  dreariest 
and  most  desolate  aspect.  At  first  there  are  forests 
springing  in  rank  luxuriance  from  swamps,  impassible 
even  by  the  foot  of  the  Indian  hunter.  But  these  soon 
pass,  and  nothing  but  interminable  cane  brakes  are  to  be 
seen  on  either  side.  From  the  shrouds  of  the  steam-boat, 
though  the  range  of  vision  probably  extended  for  many 
leagues,  no  other  objects  were  discernible  but  the  broad 
muddy  river,  with  its  vast  masses  of  drift-wood,  and  the 
wilderness  of  gigantic  bulrushes  shaking  in  the  wind. 

There  are  four  passes  or  outlets  by  which  the  Missis- 
sippi discharges  its  mighty  burden  into  the  Gulf  of  Mex- 
ico. Two  of  these  are  navigable,  but  changes  are  ever 
taking  place,  and  the  passage  formerly  preferred  by  the 
pilots,  is  now  rarely  attempted  even  by  vessels  of  the 
smallest  class.  On  approaching  the  Gulf,  verdure  ap- 
pears only  at  intervals,  and  the  eye  rests  on  tracts  of 
mere  mud,  formed  by  the  deposite  of  the  river  on  the  drift 
wood  which  some  obstacle  has  arrested  in  its  passage  to 
the  ocean.  It  is  by  this  process  that  land  is  formed,  and 
it  may  be  traced  in  every  step  of  its  progress,  from  the 
island  resting  on  a  few  logs,  up  to  the  huge  tract  in  whose 
bosom  are  embedded  many  millions.  Encountering  no 
obstacle,  the  river  sends  out  arms  in  every  direction, 
which,  after  winding  through  the  half-formed  region  in 
a  thousand  fantastic  flexures,  are  again  united  to  the 
main  branches. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  convey  an  idea  by  words,  of  the 
effect  which  this  most  dismal  scene  produces  on  the  heart 
and  imagination  of  the  spectator.  It  seems  as  if  the 
process  of  creation  were  incomplete,  and  the  earth  yet 
undivided  from  the  waters,  for  he  beholds  only  an  inde- 
terminate mass  which  admits  of  being  absolutely  assigned 
to  neither  element.  He  feels  that  he  has  forsaken  the 
regions  of  the  habitable  world.  Above,  beneath,  around, 
there  is  nothing  to  excite  his  sympathies,  and,  probably, 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  becomes  conscious  of  the 
full  sublimity  of  desolation. 

The  steamer  having  towed  her  burden  safely  across 
the  bar,  took  up  several  inward  bound  vessels,  and  com- 
menced her  voyage  back  to  the  city.  I  felt  it  absolute- 
ly a  relief  when  my  eye  again  rested  on  the  deep  sha- 


326  LAKE  PONTCHARTRAIN. 

dows  of  the  forest.  Then  came  the  dwellings  of  man. 
Never  had  the  smoke,  which  rose  in  spiral  wreaths 
above  the  masses  of  foliage,  appeared  so  beautiful. 
Even  New  Orleans  seemed  to  have  lost  something  of  its 
dinginess,  when,  after  a  three  days'  voyage,  I  found  my- 
self comfortably  seated  at  the  French  restaurateur's,  and 
saw  the  waiter  enter  with  a  most  tempting  dish  of  bec- 
caficas,  or  some  bird  very  much  like  them,  and  very 
nearly  as  good. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


JOURNEY  TO  CHARLESTON. 

ON  the  evening  of  the  10th  of  April,  I  bade  farewell 
to  New  Orleans,  and  embarked  on  the  canal  which  con- 
nects the.  city  with  the  Bayou  St.  John.  These  bayous 
are  sluggish  creeks  which  alternately  supply  nourishment 
to  the  Mississippi,  and  ease  it  of  its  load.  When  the  river 
is  in  flood,  the  bayous  which  intersect  the  whole  coun- 
try, act  as  safety-valves,  and  prevent  a  general  inunda- 
tion. When  it  is  low,  they  restore  a  portion  of  their  wa- 
ters, and  thus  contribute  to  equalize  the  volume  of  the 
river  at  different  seasons. 

The  Bayou  St.  John  has  all  the  appearance  of  a  canal. 
Its  course  leads  through  a  swamp  covered  with  cedars, 
and  other  trees  which  delight  in  exuberant  moisture.'  It 
was  dark  when  we  reached  Lake  Pontchartrain,  and  the 
steamer  lay  at  anchor  at  some  distance  from  the  shore. 
As  it  did  not  sail  till  the  following  morning,  I  should  pro- 
bably have  slept  at  the  inn  had  its  appearance  been  at 
all  inviting.  But  there  was  a  large  party  carousing  at 
the  bar,  and  its  pretensions  were  simply  those  of  a  pot- 
house. I,  therefore;  determined  to  embark  immediately, 
though  the  night  was  dark,  and  the  wind  unusually  high. 

It  may  appear  ridiculous  to  talk  of  a  storm  on  a  lake 
some  forty  or  fifty  miles  long,  and  not  more  than  two  or 
three  in  breadth.  But  the  tempestas  in  matula — if  so  it 


PASSAMAGOULA.  327 

must  be  called — was  exceedingly  disagreeable,  and  be 
fore  we  reached  the  vessel,  our  boat  was  nearly  full  of 
water.  Both  the  constitution  and  equanimity  of  a  tra- 
veller should  be  robust  enough  to  stand  an  occasional 
drenching  without  injury  or  disturbance;  but  to  have 
your  whole  baggage  saturated  with  water, — your  books, 
papers,  and  other  perishable  valuables,  seriously  da- 
maged, if  not  entirely  destroyed,  is  apt  to  produce  an 
elongation  of  visage  in  a  more  philosophical  tourist  than 
myself. 

At  all  events  it  was  in  such  pickle  that  I  reached  the 
steam-boat.  The  more  immediate  and  personal  conse- 
quences of  the  misfortune  were  obviated  by  the  exhibition 
of  a  cigar,  and  a  glass  of  the  truly  American  catholicon, 
brandy  and  water;  and  on  the  following  morning  my 
whole  chattels  were  spread  out  to  dry  on  the  deck,  ap- 
parently to  the  great  satisfaction  of  several  curious  pas- 
sengers who  not  only  subjected  the  state  of  my  wardrobe 
to  a  rigid  inspection,  but  attempted  to  read  my  papers,  a 
compliment  which  I  begged  leave  to  decline. 

From  Lake  Pontchartrain  we  passed  into  Lake  Borgne, 
a  basin  of  similar  character,  and  equally  devoid  of  beauty. 
Both  are  surrounded  by  vast  marshes,  and  the  view  on 
every  side  is  dreary  and  monotonous.  On  a  projection 
at  the  narrow  pass  by  which  these  lakes  are  united,  is  a 
fort  garrisoned  by  a  company  of  the  United  States  army. 
A  more  wretched  place  it  is  impossible  to  conceive.  The 
climate  is  among  the  most  villanous  in  the  world;  and 
an  officer  who  happened  to  be  a  passenger,  and  had  once 
for  three  years  enjoyed  the  pleasures  of  this  charming 
station,  assured  me  that  the  moschetoes  are  so  numer- 
ous that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  live  nine  months  of 
the  year  under  gauze. 

It  was  pitch-dark  when  we  reached  a  place  called  Pas- 
samagoula,  where  our  voyage  terminated.  It  here  be- 
came necessary  to  cross  the  lake,  about  half  a  mile  broad, 
on  a  narrow  and  rickety  bridge  of  planks.  The  exploit 
was  achieved  without  accident,  but  it  was  really  one  of 
peril.  To  see  was  impossible,  and  to  grope  equally  so, 
for  the  railing  in  many  places  had  given  way.  At  one 
point  of  our  progress  it  was  necessary  to  jump,  and  I  re- 
member plunging  forward  into  the  abyss  with  the  delight- 


328  FIRE  FLIES. 

Tul  incertitude  of  whether,  in  the  course  of  a  second,  I 
was  not  to  find  myself  in  the  middle  of  Lake  Borgne. 
The  betting,  I  believe,  would  have  been  pretty  equal  be- 
tween plank  and  water,  but  luckily  the  former  carried  it, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  I  was  safely  housed  in  a  dirty  log 
tavern. 

The  landlord  was  particularly  anxious  that  some  of  the 
party  should  remain  till  the  following  day  to  proceed  by 
another  coach,  but  having  already  secured  places  at  New 
Orleans,  I  would  by  no  means  listen  to  the  suggestion; 
and,  accordingly,  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  I 
had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  myself  in  the  mail  stage, 
moving  slowly  onward  towards  Mobile.  Our  road  was 
what  is  expressively  called  a  natural  one,  and  lay 
through  a  continued  pine  forest.  In  the  whole  distance 
I  observed  only  two  houses,  one  of  which  was  a  tavern, 
where  we  stopped  to  sup  about  four  in  the  morning. 
Our  fare  was  cold  venison  and  bacon,  for  which  the 
charge  was  so  enormous  as  to  excite  the  indignation  of 
the  passengers,  who  said  not  a  word  until  we  drove  off, 
when  they  united  in  declaring  that  their  pockets  had  been 
picked. 

This  forest  drive  is  imprinted  on  my  memory  by  as- 
sociation with  a  scene  of  peculiar  beauty.  The  wind  had 
fallen,  and  the  night  was  warm  and  misty.  After 
leaving  the  tavern,  the  forest  suddenly  became  illumined 
with  myriads  of  fire-flies.  The  dark  foliage  of  the  pines 
shone  resplendently  in  the  multitude  of  tiny  corusca- 
tions. But  in  an  hour  day  dawned,  and  the  "  ineffectual 
fires  "  of  these  beautiful  insects  were  soon  extinguished 
in  its  radiance. 

About  nine  in  the  morning  of  the  12th  of  April,  we 
reached  Mobile,  a  town,  as  every  Liverpool  merchant 
well  knows,  of  considerable  importance.  It  was  burned 
down  some  years  ago,  but  few  traces  of  the  conflagration 
are  now  discernible.  On  inquiry,  I  found  the  steam- 
boat for  Montgomery  did  not  start  for  three  days,  and, 
therefore,  I  judged  it  advisable  to  take  advantage  of  my 
letters.  These  were  not  less  efficacious  in  procuring 
kindness  at  Mobile,  than  I  had  found  them  in  other 
places. 

My  observations  during  this  three  days'  residence  af- 


SCOTCH  BAKER.  329 

forded  little  to  record.  Mobile  is  a  place  of  trade,  and 
of  nothing  else.  It  is  the  great  port  of  the  cotton-grow- 
ing State  of  Alabama.  The  quays  were  crowded  with 
shipping,  and  in  amount  of  exports  it  is  inferior  only  to 
New  Orleans.  The  wealth  of  the  Mobile  merchants 
must  accumulate  rapidly,  for  they  certainly  do  not  dis- 
sipate it  in  expenditure.  There  are  no  smart  houses  or 
equipages,  nor  indeed  any  demonstration  of  opulence, 
except  huge  ware-houses  and  a  crowded  harbour.7  Of 
amusements  of  any  kind  I  heard  nothing. 

My  mornings  were  passed  in  wandering  about  the 
neighbouring  forest,  which  is  full  of  Indians.  These 
men  had  evidently  been  debased  by  their  intercourse 
with  Europeans.  It  is  only  in  the  remote  wilderness 
that  they  appear  in  their  native  dignity  and  independence. 
And  yet  something  of  their  original  grace  and  spirit 
seemed  still  to  cling  to  them.  They  are  poor,  yet  patient 
under  suffering,  and  though  subdued,  are  nobly  sub- 
missive. During  my  walks  I  often  attempted  to  con- 
verse with  them,  but  their  taciturnity  was  not  to  be  over- 
come. I  gave  them  money,  but  they  received  it  rather 
with  surprise  than  thankfulness.  They  were  without 
experience  in  gratitude,  and  too  manly  to  express  that 
which  they  did  not  feel. 

I  was  strongly  recommended  to  lay  in  a  store  of  cog- 
niac  and  biscuits  at  Mobile,  being  assured  that  in  the 
country  I  was  about  to  traverse,  there  would  be  found 
neither  bread  nor  brandy.  Though  not  particularly  ap- 
prehensive of  suffering  by  privation  of  either,  I  adopted 
the  advice  of  my  friends,  and  visited  a  Scotch  baker, 
whom  I  directed  to  pack  for  me  a  small  box  of  biscuits. 
My  countrymen  are  accused  of  cherishing  a  certain  in- 
destructible sentiment  of  affinity.  Whether  this  moved 
the  baker  and  myself  I  know  not,  but  we  had  a  good 
deal  of  conversation  on  the  subject  of  emigration.  My 
compatriot  was  a  native  of  Hamilton,  and  had  courted 
fortune  there  without  success.  Regardless  of  Malthus 
and  his  precepts,  he  had  married,  and  unluckily  his  fa- 
mily increased  quite  as  rapidly  as  his  hope  of  supporting 
it  diminished.  Under  these  circumstances  he  turned 
his  little  moveables  into  money,  and  trusting  his  progeny 
for  a  season  to  God  and  their  own  industry,  set  off  for 

42 


330  THE  BAKER'S  OPINIONS. 

America.  On  arriving  at  New  York,  he  worked  for 
some  months  as  a  journeyman,  but  learning  from  a  friend 
that  kneaders  of  dough  were  in  greater  request  at  Mo- 
bile, he  there  pitched  his  tabernacle  and  heated  his  oven. 
His  family  had  since  joined  him,  and  he  was  now,  he 
assured  me,  in  the  enjoyment  of  every  comfort  which 
the  most  prosperous  baker  could  desire. 

In  conversation,  the  man's  mind  seemed  to  be  alter- 
nately influenced  by  attachment  to  his  native  land,  and 
satisfaction  in  the  enjoyment  of  those  advantages  which 
had  resulted  from  his  quitting  it.  At  first  he  would 
talk  of  nothing  but  the  beauties  of  the  Clyde.  "  Oh, 
sir,"  said  he,  "  are  not  the  banks  of  the  Clyde  beautiful? 
Did  you  ever  see  a  river  like  it?  Does  not  the  road 
from  Hamilton  to  Lanark  pass  through  a  perfect  paradise? 
I  am  sure  the  whole  world  has  nothing  to  equal  it." 

I  agreed  in  all  his  praises  of  the  Clyde,  and  inquired 
whether  he  had  not  found,  in  the  solid  comforts  of  the 
New  World,  a  sufficient  compensation  for  the  loss  of 
those  beauties  which  it  delighted  his  imagination  to  re- 
call. This  question  seemed  to  have  the  effect  of  divert- 
ing the  whole  current  of  the  baker's  ideas.  He  dilated 
on  his  present  comforts;  told  me  he  lived  like  a  duke, — 
the  man  was  redolent  of  broth, — had  two  slaves,  could 
pay  his  debts  any  day  in  the  week,  and  had  lately  been 
able,  without  inconvenience,  to  send  a  hundred  dollars 
to  his  poor  mother.  In  regard  to  emigration,  he  ex- 
pressed his  opinions  at  great  length.  "  In  Scotland, 
sir,"  said  this  sagacious  master  of  the  rolls,  there  is  so 
much  competition  in  every  trade  that  a  great  many  must 
be  unsuccessful.  Take  my  own  case  as  an  example: 
when  I  set  up  a  shop  in  Hamilton,  I  was  honest  and  in- 
dustrious enough,  and  understood  my  business  quite  as 
well  as  any  baker  in  the  country;  still  I  could  get  little 
custom.  The  trade  was  already  full,  and  those  only 
who  had  considerable  capital  could  afford  to  wait  till  bu- 
siness came  in  by  slow  degrees.  This  would  not  do  for 
me,  whose  whole  stock  in  trade  consisted  only  of  fifty 
pounds,  borrowed  from  my  wife's  uncle.  I  was  obliged 
to  sell  my  bread  to  pay  for  my  flour,  and  finding  that 
impossible,  soon  got  into  the  Gazette.  My  story  is  that 
of  thousands  more;  and  surely  these  men  had  better 
come  to  this  country,  than  continue  struggling  for  a  pre- 


THE  BAKER'S  ADVICE  TO  EMIGRANTS.  331 

carious  subsistence  at  home.  They  may  not  get  rich 
here,  but  they  will  be  sure,  if  they  are  sober,  industri- 
ous, and  do  not  suffer  from  the  climate,  to  escape  from 
poverty.  But  it  is  not  actual  want  of  the  necessaries  of 
life,  sir,  which  occasions  the  chief  suffering  of  the  poor 
tradesman  in  the  old  country.  It  is  the  cares  and  anx- 
ieties that  continually  press  on  him,  that  deprive  his 
bread  of  its  nourishment,  and  disturb  his  sleep  by  horri- 
ble dreams;  it  is  these  things  that  wear  out  both  soul  and 
body,  and  make  him  an  old  man  before  his  time.  In 
America  a  man  may  look  to  the  future  without  more  ap- 
prehension than  what  naturally  arises  from  the  common 
accidents  to  which  we  are  liable  in  all  countries.  He 
need  have  no  fears  about  his  family,  for  he  has  plenty  to 
give  them  in  the  mean  time;  and  if  they  live,  they  will 
soon  be  able  to  provide  for  themselves. 

(t  Still  I  would  not  advise  any  one  who  is  in  a  steady 
way  of  business  at  home,  however  small,  and  who  can 
make  both  ends  meet  by  strict  economy,  to  think  of  emi- 
grating. It  is  a  sore  trial,  sir;  and  if  I  had  been  a  single 
man,  with  no  one  to  provide  for  but  myself,  I  never 
would  have  left  bonny  Scotland.  Oh,  sir,  the  rivers 
here  are  not  to  be  compared  to  the  Clyde,*  and  had  the 
worst  come  to  the  worst,  I  would  have  still  continued  to 
get  both  bite  and  sup;  and  I  often  think  now  that  a  mouth- 
ful in  that  country  would  do  me  more  good  than  a  whole 
bellyful  in  this.  The  man  that  comes  here,  sir,  only  ex- 
changes one  set  of  evils  for  another:  he  is  obliged  to 
mingle  with  a  most  profane  and  godless  set.  He  cannot 
hear  the  gospel  preached,  as  he  has  been  accustomed  to, 
and  the  profanation  of  the  Sabbath  is  most  awful.  He 
cannot  give  his  children  a  religious  education,  and  bring 
them  up  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord;  and  it  is  shocking  to 
think  of  the  sights  of  depravity  to  which  they  must  be- 
come accustomed  from  tlfeir  very  infancy.  I  am  not 
sure,  sir,  that  poverty  is  not  a  slight  evil  when  compared 
to  this. 

"Then  ther,e  is  slavery,  sir;  men  are  treated  in  this 
country  far  worse  than  brute  beasts  in  Scotland,  and 
surely  this  is  dreadful.  There  is  no  getting  any  thing 
done  here  without  slaves,  for  all  white  men  think  it 
a  disgrace  to  labour.  I  was  obliged  to  buy  a  slave 


332  DEPARTURE  FROM  MOBILE. 

with  the  first  money  1  could  spare,  and  I  have  now 
two,  but  I  treat  them  just  like  free  servants,  and  teach 
my  children  that,  in  the  eye  of  God,  they  are  as  good 
as  themselves.  After  all,  it  is  a  sore  trial  of  patience; 
for  the  creatures  are  dirty,  and  have  no  sense  or  gump- 
tion. Then,  the  ways  of  the  people  here,  are  not  plea- 
sant to  one  from  the  old  country:  they  are  not  social 
and  neighbourly,  and  are  so  keen  about  money,  that  I 
believe  they  would  skin  a  flea  for  lucre  of  the  hide  and 
tallow.  There  is  a  great  deal,  sir,  that  should  be  well- 
weighed  and  considered  before  a  man  decides  on  leaving 
the  land  of  his  birth.  I  have  never  advised  a  friend  of 
mine  to  do  so,  and  when  applied  to,  though  I  give  all 
the  information  in  my  power,  I  advise  nothing  but  cau- 
tion.'' 

So  far  as  my  memory  would  permit,  I  have  imbodied 
the  oration  of  the  baker  in  his  own  words.  It  struck 
me  as  being  marked  by  an  unusual  degree  of  good  sense, 
and  may  possibly  be  found  useful.  At  all  events  his 
biscuits  were  excellent,  and  during  my  eight  days'  resi- 
dence in  the  Creek  country,  I  often  thought  of  him  with 
gratitude. 

On  the  15th  of  April  I  embarked  on  board  of  the 
steam-boat  Isabella,  bound  up  the  Alabama  river  for 
Montgomery.  As  there  were  no  ladies  on  board,  my 
English  friend  and  myself  succeeded  in  getting  posses- 
sion of  the  cabin  usually  appropriated  for  their  accommo- 
dation. Our  apartment  was  immediately  above  that  oc- 
cupied by  the  gentlemen,  and  being  surrounded  by  a 
balcony,  it  was  impossible  to  desire  any  thing  more 
agreeable.  The  party  below  seemed  to  consist  almost 
exclusively  of  farmers,  who,  though  exceedingly  offen- 
sive both  in  habits  and  deportment,  are  yet  a  shade  bet- 
ter than  the  inhabitants  of  towns.  There  is  nothing  rus- 
tic, however,  about  any  American;  nothing  of  that  sim- 
plicity which  distinguishes  the  peasantry  of  other  coun- 
tries. The  eye  is  almost  uniformly  expressive  of  care 
and  cunning;  and  often,  as  I  looked  on  the  furrowed  and 
haggard  countenances  which  surrounded  the  dinner  ta- 
ble, have- 1  asked  myself,  "Is  it  possible  that  these  men 
make  pretension  to  happiness?" 

In  my  progress  down  the  western  waters,  I  had  be- 


COURT  OF  LAW.  333 

come  accustomed  to  a  table,  loaded  even  to  excess  with 
provisions  of  all  sorts.  In  the  Southern  States  there  is 
no  such  profusion.  Our  dinners  on  board  the  Isabella 
were  scanty  in  quantity,  and  far  from  laudable  on  the 
score  of  quality.  Plates,  dishes,  knives  and  forks,  table- 
cloths, all  were  dirty  and  disgusting.  But  bating  these 
disagreeables,  our  voyage  was  pleasant  and  prosperous 
The  Alabama  is  a  river  apparently  about  the  size  of  the 
Hudson;  and  the  scenery  through  which  it  led  us,  was 
very  pleasing,  though  deficient  in  variety.  Either  bank 
presented  a  splendid  mass  of  luxuriant  foliage,  and  some 
of  the  noblest  timber  I  had  ever  seen.  Among  the  fo- 
rest trees  I  remarked  the  plane,  the  cotton-tree,  dogwood, 
oak  of  several  varieties,  magnolia  grandiflora,  maple, 
gum-tree,  hackberry,  &c.  At  night  I  was  peculiarly 
struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  stars  reflected  in  the  pure 
waters  of  the  river.  The  whole  sky  was  mirrored  with 
a  vividness  which  exceeded  every  thing  of  the  kind  I 
have  ever  witnessed  .before  or  since. 

In  the  evening  we  passed  Claiborne,  a  petty  village  on 
a  height,  a  short  distance  from  the  river.  In  a  State  so 
thinly  peopled  as  Alabama,  however,  it  is  talked  of  as  a 
considerable  place;  but  from  all  I  saw  or  heard  of  it, 
Claiborne  is  not  increasing,  nor  is  it  likely  to  increase. 
On  the  morning  following,  we  came  to  Portland,  a 
miserable  place,  consisting  of  a  store  and  a  few  wretched 
houses.  This  is  what  is  called  in  American  phrase,  "a 
great  improvement. "  We  called  at  every  house  in  the 
place  in  search  of  milk,  but  could  get  none. 

Our  next  stoppage  was  at  Cahawba,  which,  a  year  or 
two  back,  was  the  seat  of  government  of  the  State.  It 
is  a  very  poor  collection  of  very  poor  houses,  not,  I 
should  imagine,  above  twenty  in  number.  The  Court- 
house happening  to  be  open,  I  entered,  and  found  the 
Court  engaged  in  the  discharge  of  business.  On  an  ele- 
vated platform,  composed  of  rough  unpainted  boards,  sat 
his  honour,  the  judge,  not  better  dressed,  and  apparently 
somewhat  filthier  in  habits,  than  an  English  ploughman. 
The  case  concerned  the  payment  of  a  doctor's  bill:  the 
counsel  for  defendant,  a  gentleman  in  a  fustian  jacket, 
was  in  the  act  of  addressing  the  Court.  He  read  an  act 
of  the  legislature,  enacting  that  no  practitioner  of  the 


334  ARRIVAL  AT  MONTGOMERY. 

healing  art  should  recover  for  medical  attendance,  with- 
out having  been  previously  licensed  by  a  Board  of  Doc- 
tors, and  called  on  the  plaintiff,  as  a  necessary  preliminary, 
to  produce  his  certificate. 

This  was  evidently  inconvenient,  and  the  plaintiff's 
counsel,  whose  appearance  seemed  to  indicate  a  combina- 
tion of  the  trade  of  blacksmith  with  that  of  barrister,  was 
somewhat  taken  aback  by  the  demand.  The  learned 
gentleman,  however,  attempted  with  all  his  ingenuity,  to 
get  out  of  the  scrape,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  every  sen- 
tence, hitched  up  his  corduroy  breeches,  which  seemed 
in  danger  of  dropping  about  his  heels,  with  a  grace  pe- 
culiarly his  own.  Unfortunately  I  had  not  time  to  wait 
for  the  peroration  of  the  speech.  The  steam-boat  bell 
sounded,  and  no  time  was  to  be  lost  in  getting  on 
board. 

Shortly  after  dark  we  reached  Selma,  the  most  con- 
siderable settlement  on  the  Alabama,  between  Mobile 
and  Montgomery.  There  was  no  quay,  and  a  good  deal 
of  the  cargo  was  rolled  out  upon  the  bank  without  any 
one  to  receive  it.  I  did  not  see  Selma,  for  the  night  was 
cloudy  and  moonless,  and  the  village  stands  at  a  short 
distance  from  the  river. 

On  the  fourth  clay,  our  voyage  terminated.  Mont- 
gomery is  what  is  called  "  a  considerable  place,"  though 
its  population  does  not  exceed  a  few  hundreds,  and  these 
exclusively  of  the  poorer  order.  There  is  not  one  tolerable 
house,  and  nothing  could  be  worse  than  the  inn.  In  the 
way  of  dormitory,  nothing  was  to  be  had  but  a  room 
with  three  beds  in  it,  all  of  which  were  destined  to  be 
occupied.  What  was  still  worse,  the  beds  were  full  of 
vermin,  and  the  moschetoes  more  annoying  than  I  had 
yet  found  them. 

In  such  circumstances  I  was  up  with  the  lark,  and  set 
out  on  a  long  ramble  through  the  neighbouring  country. 
The  soil  is  poor  and  light,  but  presents  a  prettily  undu- 
lating surface.  From  one  height  I  enjoyed  a  fine  view 
of  the  river,  which  is  truly,  even  at  this  distance  from 
the  sea,  a  noble  object.  After  a  walk  of  three  hours  I 
returned  to  the  inn,  having  fortunately  succeeded  in 
throwing  off  by  exercise,  the  fever  and  fatigue  of  a  rest- 
less night. 


ENTER  THE  CREEK  COUNTRY.        335 

In  the  Southern  States,  there  is  little  of  that  stirring 
spirit  of  improvement  so  apparent  in  the  regions  of  the 
West.  The  towns  and  villages  are  without  appearance 
of  business,  and  the  number  of  dilapidated — if  the  word 
may  be  applied  to  structures  of  wood — houses,  indicates 
a  decreasing,  rather  than  an  augmenting  population.  In 
Montgomery,  many  houses  had  been  deserted,  and  the 
Court-house  seemed  fast  falling  into  decay. 

At  four  o'clock  p.  M.,  we  started  in  the  mail  stage  for 
Fort  Mitchell.  There  were  unfavourable  reports  abroad 
of  the  state  of  the  rivers,  which  were  asserted  to  be  im- 
passable; but  I  had  so  often  experienced  that  difficulties, 
formidable  at  a  distance,  become  insignificant  on  nearer 
approach,  that  I  determined  to  push  on  at  all  hazards. 
In  the  present  case,  my  determination  was  unlucky,  for 
it  involved  both  my  companion  and  myself  in  some  little 
danger,  and  occasioned  considerable  detention. 

We  accomplished  the  first  stage  without  difficulty  of 
any  kind,  but  with  the  second  commenced  the  tug  of 
war.  Our  first  obstacle  was  a  bayou  of  such  depth,  that 
in  crossing  it,  the  water  was  ankle-deep  in  the  bottom  of 
the  carriage.  Night  had  set  in  before  we  reached  Lime 
Creek,  which,  though  generally  a  slow  and  sluggish 
stream,  was  now  swelled  into  a  very  formidable  torrent. 
It  requires  experience  to  understand  the  full  danger  of 
crossing  such  a  river,  and,  perhaps,  fortunately,  I  did 
not  possess  it.  But  both  the  passengers  and  coachman 
were  under  considerable  alarm,  and  one  of  the  former,  a 
Louisianian  planter,  in  broken  English  threatened  (he 
black  ferryman  with  instant  death  in  case  of  negligence 
or  blunder.  This  caused  some  merriment;  but  Sambo, 
who  was  evidently  under  no  alarm,  took  the  matter  very 
coolly.  The  coach  Avas  run  into  the  ferry-boat,  and  by 
means  of  a  hawser  stretched  across  the  river,  we  soon 
found  ourselves  in  safety  on  the  opposite  bank. 

We  were  now  in  the  territory  of  the  Creek  Indians, 
and  in  consequence  of  the  darkness,  it  was  soon  found 
impossible  to  proceed  without  torches.  We  tried  in 
vain  to  procure  them  at  several  of  the  Indian  encamp- 
ments, but  were  at  last  fortunate  enough  to  discover  an 
axe  in  the  coach,  with  which  abundance  were  soon  cut 
from  the  neighbouring  pines.  I  have  had  occasion  to 


336  PROGRESS  THROUGH  THE  FOREST. 

say  a  great  deal  about  roads  in  these  volumes,  but  I  pro- 
nounce that  along  which  our  route  lay  on  the  present 
occasion,  to  be  positively,  comparatively,  and  superla- 
tively, the  very  worst  I  have  ever  travelled  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  peregrinations.  The  ruts  were  axle-deep, 
and  huge  crevices  occasionally  occurred,  in  which,  but 
for  great  strategy  on  the  part  of  the  coachman,  the  vehi- 
cle must  have  been  engulfed. 

Jn  such  circumstances  none  of  the  passengers  seemed 
ambitious  of  the  dangerous  distinction  of  keeping  his 
seat.  We  all  walked,  each  armed  with  a  pine  torch,  and 
the  party,  to  a  spectator,  must  have  had  very  much  the 
aspect  of  a  funeral  procession.  Nothing,  however,  could 
be  more  beautiful  than  the  scene  presented  by  the  forest. 
The  glare  of  our  torches,  as  we  continued  slowly  ad- 
vancing amid  the  darkness;  the  fires  of  the  Indian  en- 
campments seen  at  a  distance  through  the  trees,  and  the 
wild  figures  by  which  they  were  surrounded;  the  multi- 
tude of  fire-flies  which  flickered  every  where  among  the 
foliage, — formed  a  combination  of  objects  which  more 
than  compensated  in  picturesque  beauty,  for  all  the  diffi- 
culties we  had  yet  encountered. 

We  had  to  pass  two  swamps  on  a  sort  of  pavement 
formed  of  logs  of  trees,  or  what  is  called  in  America,  a 
"  corduroy  road."  The  operation,  though  one  of  some 
difficulty,  was  effected  without  accident.  The  country, 
as  we  advanced,  presented  greater  inequalities  of  surface. 
Stumps  of  trees  often  came  in  contact  with  the  wheels, 
and  brought  the  whole  machine  to  a  stand-still;  trees 
which  had  been  blown  over  by  the  wind  sometimes  lay 
directly  across  the  road,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
the  united  exertions  of  the  passengers  succeeded  in  re- 
moving them. 

In  spite  of  all  obstacles,  however,  we  reached  an  In- 
dian tavern,  where  we  changed  horses  and  had  supper. 
We  were  now  beyond  the  region  of  bread,  and  our  fare 
consisted  of  eggs,  broiled  venison,  and  cakes  of  Indian 
corn  fried  in  some  kind  of  oleaginous  matter.  The  ve- 
nison was  tolerable,  and  with  the  biscuits  of  my  friend, 
the  Mobile  baker,  I  bade  defiance  to  fate  in  the  way  of 
eating. 

On  returning  to  the  coach,  we  found  the  night  had 


INDIAN  COTTAGE.  337 

become  one  of  rain.  The  clouds  began  discharging 
their  contents  in  no  very  alarming  profusion,  but  this 
soon  changed,  and  the  rain  absolutely  descended  in  tor- 
rents. The  pine  torches  refused  to  burn;  the  wind 
roared  loudly  among  the  trees;,  streams  came  rushing 
down  the  gulleys,  and  inundated  the  road,  and  in  spite 
of  greatcoats  and  water-proof  cloaks,  in  less  than  an  hour 
1  found  myself  fairly  drenched  to  the  skin. 

At  length  the  horses,  on  getting  half  way  up  a  hill, 
became  fairly  exhausted,  and  no  application  of  the  lash 
could  induce  them  to  proceed.  The  passengers  all 
pushed  most  lustily,  but  the  horses  were  obstinate,  and 
gave  us  no  assistance.  In  short,  we  were  evidently 
hard  and  fast  for  the  night,  and  resigning  all  hope  of  im- 
mediate extrication,  the  driver  was  despatched  on  one 
of  the  leaders  to  the  next  stage  for  assistance,  while  in 
doleful  mood,  and  absolutely  saturated  with  water,  we 
reseated  ourselves  in  the  coach  to  await  his  reappear- 
ance. 

It  would  not,  in  truth,  be  easy  to  conceive  a  set  of 
men  in  more  miserable  pickle.  The  storm,  instead  of 
abating,  continued  to  increase.  The  peals  of  thunder 
were  tremendous.  The  lightning  split  a  huge  pine- 
tree  within  a  few  yards  of  us,  and  one  of  the  passengers 
declared  he  was  struck  blind,  and  did  not  recover  his 
sight  for  an  hour  or  two.  The  rain  beat  in  through  the 
sides  and  covering  of  the  carriage,  as  if  in  wantonness  of 
triumph  to  drench  men  who,  sooth  to  say,  were  quite 
wet  enough  already.  In  short, 

"  Such  sheets  of  fire,  such  bursts  of  horrid  thunder, 
Such  groans  of  roaring1  wind  and  rain,  I  never 
Remember  to  have  heard." 

From  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  seven  did  we 
continue  in  this  comfortless  condition,  when  we  were 
somewhat  cheered  by  the  appearance  of  the  driver,  who, 
we  afterwards  discovered,  had  been  sleeping  very  com- 
fortably in  an  Indian  cottage  in  the  neighbourhood.  He 
brought  with  him  a  couple  of  Negroes,  but  no  additional 
horses,  and  of  course  it  was  quite  preposterous  to  suppose 
that  the  poor  animals,  which  had  been  standing  all  night 
without  food,  and  exposed  to  the  storm,  could  now  per- 

43 


338  APPEARANCE  OF  THE  INDIANS. 

form  a  task  to  which  they  had  formerly  proved  unequal. 
The  attempt  was  made,  however;  and  to  lighten  the 
coach,  our  baggage  was  tossed  out  upon  the  road.  Nei- 
ther the  Negroes,  horses,  nor  passengers,  could  move 
the  coach  one  inch  from  its  position.  There  it  was,  and 
there  it  was  destined  to  remain.  Our  last  hope  of  extri- 
cation had  now  failed  us,  and  it  became  necessary  to  find 
shelter  and  hospitality  as  best  we  could. 

Luckily  an  Indian  cottage  was  discovered  at  no  great 
distance,  where,  by  the  help  of  a  blazing  fire,  we  suc- 
ceeded in  drying  our  drenched  garments.  In  the  course 
of  the  day  a  bullock  wagon  was  despatched  for  the  mail- 
bags  and  luggage,  and  there  was  evidently  nothing  for  it 
but  roughing  it  with  a  good  grace. 

On  the  part  of  those  on  whose  privacy  we  had  in- 
truded, our  welcome  was  tranquil,  but  apparently  sin- 
cere.. Our  host — one  of  the  handsomest  Indians  I  have 
ever  seen — spread  before  us  his  whole  store  of  eggs,  ve- 
nison, and  Indian  corn,  with  the  air  of  a  forest  gentle- 
man. His  two  wives,  with  greater  advantages  of  toilet, 
would  probably  have  been  good-looking,  but  being  un- 
fortunately rather  dirty,  and  clad  only  in  a  blanket  and 
blue  petticoat,  the  sum  of  their  attractions  was  by  no 
means  overpowering.  The  children  were  nearly  naked, 
yet  graceful  in  all  their  motions.  Their  chief  amuse- 
ment seemed  to  consist  in  the  exercise  of  the  crossbow. 

One  of  the  passengers  produced  a  musical  snuff-box, 
which  occasioned  great  excitement  in  the  women  and 
children.  The  men  were  too  dignified  or  phlegmatic  to 
betray  either  pleasure  or  astonishment.  Our  host,  how- 
ever, was  evidently  delighted  with  an  air-gun  with  which 
several  birds  were  killed  for  his  amusement.  He  then 
asked  permission  to  take  a  shot,  and  hit  a  dollar  with 
great  accuracy  at  about  thirty  yards. 

It  somewhat  lowered  the  ideas  of  romance  connected 
with  these  Indians,  to  find  that  they  are,  many  of  them, 
slave-owners.  But  slavery  among  this  simple  people  as- 
sumes a  very  different  aspect  from  any  under  which  I 
had  yet  beheld  it.  The  negroes  speak  English,  and  ge- 
nerally act  as  dragomen  in  any  intercourse  with  the 
whites.  They  struck  me  as  being  far  handsomer  than 
any  I  had  yet  seen,  partly,  perhaps,  from  being  unhabit- 
uated  to  severe  labour,  and  partly  from  some  slight  ad- 


AMERICAN  REFUGEES.  339 

mixture  of  Indian  blood.  I  conversed  with  several  who 
described  their  bondage  as  light,  and  spoke  of  their  mas- 
ter and  his  family  with  affection. 

To  the  lash  they  are  altogether  unaccustomed,  and 
when  married,  live  in  houses  of  their  own,  round  which 
they  cultivate  a  patch  of  ground.  The  negro  and  Indian 
children  are  brought  up  together  on  a  footing  of  perfect 
equality,  and  the  government  of  the  family  seemed  en- 
tirely patriarchal. 

The  weather  had  become  fine,  and  the  day  passed  more 
pleasantly  than  the  night.  The  -Indian  territory  being 
beyond  the  reach  of  American  law,  is  sought  as  a  place 
of  refuge  by  criminals,  and  those  to  whom  the  restraints 
of  civilized  society  are  habitually  irksome.  These  men 
intermarry  with  the  natives,  among  whom  they  contri- 
bute to  spread  guilt  and  demoralization.  In  truth,  the 
majority  are  ruffians,  whose  proneness  to  crime  is  here 
alike  unchecked  by  principle,  religion,  public  opinion, 
or  dread  of  punishment. 

Towards  evening,  two  of  this  class  came  in,  and  chose 
to  pass  the  night  in  drinking.  Nothing  more  offensive 
than  their  manners  and  conversation  can  readily  be  con- 
ceived. After  bearing  patiently  with  this  annoyance  for 
an  hour  or  two,  it  at  length  became  intolerable,  and,  in 
order  to  escape,  I  spread  my  cloak  in  a  corner  of  the  ca- 
bin and  endeavoured  to  sleep.  But  this  was  impossible. 
The  noise,  the  demands  for  liquor,  the  blasphemy,  the 
wrangling,  were  unceasing.  At  length,  one  of  the  men 
drew  his  dirk,  and  attempted  to  assassinate  his  opponent, 
who  succeeded,  however,  in  seizing  him  by  the  throat,  and 
both  rolled  upon  the  floor.  1  immediately  jumped  up,  and 
the  alarm  roused  our  host,  who,  with  the  assistance  of  a 
slave,  barely  succeeded  in  saving  the  life  of  one  of  the  com- 
batants. He  was  at  first  insensible.  His  mouth  was  wide 
open;  his  face  and  lips  were  livid ;  his  eyes  seemed  burst- 
ing from  their  sockets,  and,  on  being  raised,  his  head  hung 
down  upon  his  shoulder.  His  lungs,  however,  made  a 
convulsive  effort  to  regain  their  action.  There  was  a  loud 
and  sudden  gurgle,  and  he  became  better.  The  other 
man  was  prevailed  on  to  depart ;  and  towards  four  in  the 
morning,  silence,  broken  only  by  the  snoring  of  some  of 
tts  inmates,  reigned  in  the  cottage. 


340  AMERICAN  POLYGAMIST. 

Sleep,  however,  was  impossible,  under  the  incessant  at- 
tacks of  a  multitude  of  blood-suckers,  which,  flea  for  man, 
would  have  outnumbered  the  army  of  Xerxes.  But 
morning  came,  and  fortunately  with  it,  a  coach  intended 
to  convey  us  on  our  journey.  Our  host  could  not  be  pre- 
vailed on  to  make  any  charge  for  our  entertainment,  but 
one  of  his  wives  received  all  we  chose  to  offer,  and  ap- 
peared satisfied  with  its  amount.  Not  an  article  of  the 
baggage  was  found  missing,  and,  on  departing,  I  shook 
hands  with  the  whole  establishment — Negroes  included — 
to  the  great  scandal  of  the  American  passengers. 

Even  by  daylight  our  way  was  beset  by  difficulties. 
First  came  Kilbeedy  Creek,  which  we  crossed  by  as  awk- 
ward and  rickety  a  bridge  as  can  well  be  imagined. 
Then  came  Pessimmon's  swamp,  which  presented  a  de- 
lightful corduroy  road,  some  parts  of  which  had  been  en- 
tirely absorbed  by  the  morass.  At  length,  we  reached 
the  inn  kept  by  an  American  polygamist,  with  three  In- 
dian wives.  The  breakfast  was  no  better  than  might  be 
expected  in  such  an  establishment.  It  consisted  of  bad 
coffee,  rancid  venison,  and  corn  cakes,  no  eggs,  no  milk,  no 
butter.  Our  host,  apparently,  had  no  great  taste  in  re- 
gard to  wives.  One  was  round  as  a  hogshead;  another 
skin  and  bone ;  of  the  third  I  saw,  or  at  least  remember, 
nothing. 

The  meal  concluded,  we  again  set  forward.  Our  route 
lay  through  one  continued  pine  forest.  In  the  course  of 
the  day  we  passed  many  Indian  wigwams,  and  a  few 
houses  of  a  better  order,  surrounded  by  small  enclosures. 
The  road  by  no  means  improved,  and,  in  order  to  relieve 
the  horses,  we  were  compelled  to  walk.  At  one  place  it 
was  completely  obstructed  by  a  huge  fallen  tree,  which 
delayed  our  progress  for  at  least  two  hours.  About  three 
o'clock  we  dined  at  the  house  of  a  half-caste  Indian,  on 
the  usual  fare,  venison  and  Indian  corn. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  we  passed  several  heights 
which  afforded  extensive,  if  not  fine,  views  of  the  neigh- 
bouring country.  The  road,  too,  became  somewhat  bet- 
ter, and,  being  composed  of  sand  without  stones,  though 
heavy  for  the  horses,  was  not  uncomfortable,  for  the  pas- 
sengers. For  myself,  I  never  experienced  greater  fatigue. 
During  the  two  preceding  nights,  I  had  never  closed  an 


INDIAN  BALL  PLAY.  341 

•eye,  and  when,  at  four  in  the  morning,  we  reached  a  small 
tavern,  where — owing  to  the  desertion  of  the  moon — it 
was  found  necessary  to  wait  till  daylight,  I  cast  myself  on 
"the  floor,  and  in  a  moment  was  asleep. 

Daylight  soon  came,  and  I  was  again  roused  from  my 
slumbers.  We  were  yet  fourteen  miles  from  Fort  Mit- 
chell, and  for  the  greater  part  of  the  distance,  were  com- 
pelled to  make  progress  on  foot.  The  sun  rose  beautifully 
above  the  dark  tops  of  the  pine  trees,  but  he  was  never 
gazed  on  by  more  languid  eyes.  At  ten  o'clock  we 
reached  Fort  Mitchell,  having  in  twenty-four  hours  ac- 
complished a  distance  of  only  ninety  miles. 

Fort  Mitchell  is  garrisoned  by  a  detachment  of  the 
United  States  army,  in  order  to  prevent  aggressions  on 
the  Georgian  frontier  by  the  Indians.  Beyond  the  limits 
of  the  fort  there  are, — if  I  remember  rightly, — only  three 
houses,  one  of  which  is  a  tavern.  Its  accommodations 
were  far  from  comfortable,  but  the  landlord  was  civil, 
and  evidently  disposed  to  do  his  best  in  our  behalf.  Un- 
der such  circumstances  we  made  no  complaint,  though — 
judging  from  the  scantiness  of  our  meals — his  larder  must 
have  rivalled  in  opulence  the  shop  of  the  apothecary  in 
Romeo  and  Juliet. 

My  first  effort  was  to  procure  a  place  in  the  coach  to 
Augusta,  but  in  this  I  was  disappointed.  Fort  Mitchell 
seemed  a  sort  of  trou  de  rat  .which  it  was  difficult  to  get 
into,  and  still  more  difficult  to  get  out  of.  I  was  detained 
there  for  nearly  a  week,  and  never  did  time  pass  more 
slowly.  Had  my  sojourn  been  voluntary,  I  should  pro- 
bably have  found  a  great  deal  to  interest  and  amuse,  but 
an  enforced  residence  is  never  pleasant,  and,  but  for  the 
privilege  of  grumbling,  would  be  intolerable. 

The  officers  of  the  garrison  lived  in  the  hotel,  and  took 
pleasure  in  showing  kindness  to  a  stranger.  I  rode  with 
them  through  the  neighbouring  forest,  and  was  indebted 
to  them  for  much  valuable  information  relative  to  the 
Indians.  During  my  stay,  there  was  a  Ball  Play,  in 
which  two  neighbouring  tribes  contended  for  superiority. 
One  of  these  was  the  Creeks,  the  other  the  Switches,  a 
very  small  tribe  which  occupy  a  district  in  the  Creek  ter- 
ritory, and  still  retain  all  their  peculiarities  of  language 
and  custom. 


342  INDIAN  BALL  PLAY. 

On  the  appointed  morning  we  repaired  to  the  scene  of 
action,  where  a  considerable  number  of  spectators — chiefly 
Indians — had  already  assembled.  The  players  on  each 
side  soon  appeared,  and  retired  to  the  neighbouring 
thickets  to  adjust  their  toilet  for  the  game.  While  thus 
engaged,  either  party  endeavoured  to  daunt  their  oppo- 
nents by  loud  and  discordant  cries.  At  length  they 
emerged  with  their  bodies  entirely  naked  except  the 
waist,  which  was  encircled  by  a  girdle.  Their  skin  was 
besmeared  with  oil,  and  painted  fantastically  with  dif- 
ferent colours.  Some  wore  tails,  others  necklaces  made 
of  the  teeth  of  animals,  and  the  object  evidently  was  to 
look  as  ferocious  as  possible. 

After  a  good  deal  of  preliminary  ceremony,  the  game 
began.  The  object  of  either  party  was  to  send  the  ball 
as  far  as  possible  into  their  adversary's  ground,  and  then 
to  make  it  pass  between  two  poles,  erected  for  the  pur- 
pose of  demarcation.  I  certainly  never  saw  a  finer  dis- 
play of  agile  movement.  In  figure  the  Creek  Indians 
are  tall  and  graceful.  There  is  less  volume  of  muscle 
than  in  Englishmen,  but  more  activity  and  freedom  of 
motion.  Many  of  the  players  were  handsome  men,  and 
one  in  particular  might  have  stood  as  the  model  of  an 
Apollo.  His  form  and  motions  displayed  more  of  the 
ideal  than  I  had  ever  seen  actually  realized  in  a  human 
figure.  The  Ewitches  were  by  no  means  so  good-look- 
ing as  their  competitors. 

The  game  is  accompanied  with  some  danger,  both  to 
those  engaged  in  it  and  to  the  spectators.  It  is  quite 
necessary  for  the  latter  to  keep  clear  of  the  melee,  for  in 
following  the  ball,  the  whole  body  of  the  players  sweep 
on  like  a  hurricane,  and  a  gouty  or  pursy  gentleman  could 
be  safe  only  when  perched  on  the  boughs  of  a  tree.  At 
length  the  Creeks  were  victorious,  and  the  air  rang  with 
savage  shouts  of  triumph.  The  poor  Ewitches,  chop- 
fallen,  quitted  the  field,  declaring,  however,  that  none 
'but  their  worst  players  had  taken  part  in  the  game.  The 
victors  danced  about  in  all  the  madness  of  inordinate  ela- 
tion, and  the  evening  terminated  in  a  profuse  jollification, 
to  which  I  had  the  honour  of  contributing. 

During  my  stay  at  Fort  Mitchell  I  saw  a  good  deal  of 
the  United  States  troops.  The  discipline  is  very  lax, 


WANT  OF  DISCIPLINE.  343 

and  being  always  separated  in  small  detachments,  they 
have  no  opportunity  of  being  exercised  in  field  move- 
ments. On  Sunday  there  was  a  dress  parade,  which  I 
attended.  Little  was  done,  but  that  little  in  the  most 
slovenly  manner.  It  is  only  justice  to  the  officers  to  state, 
that  they  are  quite  aware  of  the  deficiencies  of  the  service 
to  which  they  belong.  "You  will  laugh,"  they  said, 
"  at  our  want  of  method  and  discipline,  but  the  fault  is 
not  ours;  we  cannot  help  it.  The  service  is  unpopular, 
we  receive  no  support  from  the  government,  and  we  have 
no  means  of  maintaining  proper  subordination."  A 
non-commissioned  officer,-  who  had  formerly  been  in  our 
service,  and,  therefore,  understood  what  soldiers  should 
be,  in  answering  some  questions,  treated  the  whole  affair 
as  a  joke.  He  entered  the  American  service,  he  said, 
because  there  was  easy  work,  and  little  trouble  of  any 
sort.  He  had  no  intention  of  remaining  long  in  it,  for 
he  could  do  better  in  other  ways.  There  was  no  steady 
and  effective  command  kept  over  the  soldiers,  and  yet 
there  was  a  great  deal  of  punishment.  Even  from  the 
small  detachment  at  Fort  Mitchell  desertions  happened 
every  week.  Whenever  a  man  became  tired  of  his  duty, 
off  he  went,  bag  and  baggage,  and  pursuit  was  hopeless. 
The  truth  is,  that  men  accustomed  to  democracy  can 
never  be  brought  to  submit  patiently  to  the  rigours  of 
military  discipline.  The  nation  take  pride  in  their  navy, 
but  none  in  their  army.  The  latter  service  is  neglected; 
there  is  no  encouragement  for  the  display  of  zeal  in  the 
officers,  and  the  stations  are  so  remote  as  to  remove  the 
troops  entirely  from  public  observation.  The  people  care 
nothing  for  a  set  of  invisible  beings  mewed  up  in  some 
petty  forts  on  the  vast  frontier,  who  have  no  enemy  to 
contend  with,  and  are  required  to  brave  nothing  but 
fever  and  moschetoes.  Then,  when  a  case  connected 
with  the  enforcement  of  discipline  comes  before  the  civil 
courts,  the  wh6le  feeling  is  in  favour  of  the  prosecutor. 
I  remember  a  curious  instance  of  this,  which  was  related 
to  me  by  an  officer  of  distinction  in  the  United  Service 
army.  A  soldier  found  guilty,  by  a  court-martial,  of  re- 
peated desertions,  was  sentenced  to  a  certain  period  of 
imprisonment,  and  loss  of  pay.  The  man  underwent  the 
allotted  punishment,  and  on  being  liberated,  immediate- 


344  GEORGIA. 

ly  brought  actions  against  all  the  members  of  the  court- 
martial.  The  ground  taken  up  was  this: — The  articles 
of  war  state,  that  whoever  is  guilty  of  desertion,  shall 
"  suffer  death,  or  such  other  punishment  as,  by  a  general 
court-martial,  shall  be  awarded."  It  was  maintained, 
that,  by  this  clause,  the  court  were  empowered  to  inflict 
only  one  punishment,  and  that,  in  passing  sentence  of  im- 
prisonment and  stoppage  of  pay,  they  had  inflicted  tzw. 
The  jury  gave  a  verdict  and  high  damages  against  the 
members  of  the  court,  who  received  no  assistance  nor 
protection  of  any  kind  from  the  government. 

On  leaving  Fort  Mitchell,  we  crossed  the  Chatahouchy 
(a  very  considerable  river,  of  which  I  had  never  heard,) 
and  entered  the  State  of  Georgia.  Our  road  still  conti- 
nued to  lie  through  an  almost  unbroken  pine  forest,  and 
the  roads  were  mere  sand,  in  which  the  wheels  sank  half 
up  to  the  axles.  The  heat  was  very  great.  We  tra- 
velled all  night,  and,  on  the  evening  of  the  following  day, 
reached  Macon,  the  most  considerable  place  I  had  seen 
since  leaving  Mobile.  We  dined  there,  and  again  set 
forward.  About  ten  at  night  we  reached  Milledgeville, 
where  I  was  obliged  to  remain  through  illness,  though 
still  nearly  two  days'  journey  from  Augusta,  to  which  I 
had  secured  places. 

I  passed  a  restless  and  uncomfortable  night,  and  find- 
ing the  fever  still  increase,  sent  for  a  doctor.  I  asked 
him  whether  he  apprehended  my  complaint  to  be  fever? 
He  answered,  he  certainly  feared  that  I  was  suffering 
under  the  commencement  of  a  fever  of  some  sort,  but 
with  regard  to  its  character  or  probable  termination, 
could  pronounce  no  opinion.  In  spite  of  the  doctor's 
medicines,  I  continued  to  get  worse.  The  weather  was 
intensely  hot,  and  I  began  to  calculate  that  Milledgeville 
would  prove  the  termination  of  my  travels.  But  during 
the  third  night,  a  profuse  perspiration  came  on,  and  in 
the  morning  I  had  the  satisfaction  to  find*  that  the  fever 
was  gone. 

Unfortunately  my  strength  was  gone  with  it.  I  could 
only  walk  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  and  required  as- 
sistance to  reach  the  veranda.  Luckily,  there  was  a 
good-natured  black  cook,  who  sent  me  up  a  boiled 
chicken,  the  first  food  I  tasted  since  leaving  Macon. 


CHARACTER  OP  GEORGIANS.  345 

This  acted  as  a  restorative.  On  the  day  following,  I 
could  creep  about  the  city,  of  which,  being  the  metropolis 
of  a  State,  it  may  be  well  to  say  a  lew  words. 

Milledgeville  has  seen  better  days,  and  presents  the 
appearance,  not  of  a  decayed  gentleman,  but  of  a  starving 
mechanic.  Many  houses  have  already  gone  to  decay, 
and  others  are  fast  following.  It  stands  on  the  Oconee 
river,  which,  unfortunately,  is  every  year  becoming  shal- 
lower, to  the  great  injury  both  of  trade  and  agriculture. 
The  country  round  Milledgeville  is  undulating,  and  has 
been  tolerably  cleared.  At  first  the  soil  was  considered 
excellent,  but  wherever  the  forest  has  disappeared,  the 
rains  and  torrents  from  the  hills  have  swept  off  the  earth 
from  the  declivities,  and  left  nothing  but  gravel.  It  is 
chiefly  to  these  causes,  I  believe,  that  the  decline  of  po- 
pulation and  prosperity  may  be  attributed. 

The  Georgian  Legislature  was  not  sitting,  but  I  visited 
the  State  House.  It  is  a  brick  building,  which  some 
blockhead  of  an  architect  has  recently  thought  proper  to 
Gothicize.  The  accommodation  within  is  plain,  but  suf- 
ficient. There  is  a  portrait  of  General  Oglethorpe,  who 
first  received  a  grant  of  the  settlement  from  the  British 
Crown.  He  is  a  fine-looking  old  martinet,  with  a  counte- 
nance full  of  talent,  and  an  air  of  high  breeding.  I  was 
invited  to  visit  the  State  prison,  but  felt  not  the  smallest 
curiosity. 

The  second  night  after  my  recovery,  I  left  Milledge- 
ville, in  the  mail  stage.  My  friend,  the  doctor,  was  a 
worthy  and  kind-hearted  man,  who  forgave  me  for  having 
disappointed  his  prognosis.  We  had  had  a  good  deal  of 
conversation  during  his  visits,  and  when  he  came  to  see  me 
off  in  the  coach,  showed  more  feeling  on  the  occasion  than 
I  deserved.  He  squeezed  me  heartily  by  the  hand,  and 
said,  "  Sir,  I  shall  never  see  you  again,  but  you  have  my 
very  best  wishes  that  health  and  happiness  may  attend 
you?"  To  meet  with  kindness  unexpectedly  is  always 
pleasant,  and  should  these  pages  ever  meet  the  eye  of 
the  worthy  son  of  Galen— whose  name,  unfortunately, 
has  escaped  my  memory — I  beg  him  to  receive  this  pub-? 
lie  and  grateful  acknowledgment  of  his  warm-hearted 
attentions  to  a  stranger. 

A  journey  through  Georgia  presents  little  to  record, 
44 


346  AUGUSTA 

The  inhabitants  bear  a  bad  character  in  other  parts  of  the 
Union.  They  are,  perhaps,  a  little  savage  and  fero- 
cious; and,  in  regard  to  morals,  one  is  tempted  occasion- 
ally to  regret  that  the  gibbet  is  not  abroad  in  Georgia  as 
well  as  the  school-master.  From  Fort  Mitchell  I  tra- 
velled with  three  attorneys,  two  store-keepers,  two  cot- 
ton-planters, and  a  slave-dealer.  My  notions  of  the  sort 
of  conversation  prevalent  in  Newgate  may  not  be  very 
accurate,  but  I  much  doubt  whether  it  would  be  found  to 
indicate  such  utter  debasement,  both  of  thought  and  prin- 
ciple, as  that  to  which  I  was  condemned  to  listen  during 
this  journey. 

Georgia  receives  large  accessions  of  population  in  the 
offscourings  of  other  slave  States.  The  restraints  of  law 
are  little  felt,  and  it  is  the  only  State  in  the  Union  in 
which  I  heard  it  publicly  asserted  that  justice  is  not 
purely  administered.  A  Georgian,  with  whom  I  con- 
versed a  great  deal  about  his  native  State,  declared,  that, 
with  plenty  of  money,  he  could,  with  facility,  escape 
punishment  for  any  offence,  however  heinous.  I  in- 
quired the  mode  by  which  so  tempting  an  impunity  was 
to  be  realized.  He  would,  first,  he  said,  have  a  touch  at 
the  sheriff,  bribe  the  prosecutor's  counsel  to  keep  back 
evidence,  or  leave  some  flaw  by  which  the  proceedings 
might  be  vitiated;  then,  the  jury — it  would  be  odd,  in- 
deed, if  he  could  not  gain  over  some  of  them;  but  even 
should  all  fail,  there  was  the  gaoler — a  sure  card.  In 
Georgia,  he  assured  me  there  was  really  no  danger  to  be 
apprehended  from  law  by  a  gentleman  with  heavy  pock- 
ets, who  carried  his  wits  about  with  him. 

A  great  part  of  the  journey  to  Augusta  was  performed 
in  the  night.  I  saw  enough,  however,  to  convince  me 
that  there  was  no  change  in  the  general  character  of  the 
scenery  which  I  have  so  often  described.  Our  supper- 
house  was  in  a  village  called  Sparta,  but  the  landlord  had 
gone  to  bed,  and  nothing  was  to  be  had  except  brandy. 
On  the  following  evening  we  reached  Augusta. 

Soon  after  our  arrival,  I  took  a  walk  through  the 
town.  It  stands  on  the  Savannah  river,  and  is  the  great 
depot  for  the  cotton  grown  in  the  surrounding  country, 
which  is  there  shipped  for  Savannah  or  Charleston.  The 
main  street  is  broad,  and  of  considerable  length.  There 


CHARLESTON.  347 

is  a  handsome  bridge  across  the  river,  and  the  place,  alto- 
gether, formed  a  pleasing  contrast  to  those  I  had  seen 
since  the  commencement  of  my  voyage  up  the  Alabama. 

My  illness  at  Milledgeville  had  left  a  good  deal  of  de- 
bility, and  I  determined  on  resting  a  day  or  two  at  Au- 
gusta. I  had  brought  several  letters,  which  I  despatched, 
and  was  rather  surprised  to  find  that  one  of  them  was  ad- 
dressed to  the  landlord  of  the  tavern  in  which  I  had  taken, 
up  my  abode.  The  best  introduction  to  people  of  this 
class  is  generally  a  well-filled  pocket;  but  it  is  only  fair 
to  state,  that  my  letter  did  for  me,  what  money  most 
probably  would  not.  Mine  host  was  in  the  highest  de- 
gree civil,  placed  me  at  dinner  on  his  right  hand,  was 
particularly  attentive  to  the  condition  of  my  plate,  and 
when  I  ordered  wine,  gave  me,  I  do  believe,  one  of  the 
very  best  bottles  in  his  cellar.  He  likewise  conveyed 
me  in  his  carriage  to  visit  a  military  station  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  from  the  respect  paid  him  by  the  officers, 
I  concluded  that  he  of  the  Red  Lion  was  a  topping  man 
in  the  place. 

From  Augusta,  I  should  have  gone  down  the  river  to 
Savannah,  but  the  steamer  was  not  to  sail  for  five  days, 
and  I  determined  on  proceeding  by  coach  direct  to 
Charleston.  We  had  not  advanced  above  a  few  miles, 
when  a  dreadful  storm  came  on.  The  thunder  was  very 
loud,  and  the  rain  very  heavy,  but,  in  the  course  of  an 
hour  or  two,  the  sky  was  again  clear,  and  we  at  least  en- 
joyed the  benefit  of  travelling  without  dust.  Our  route 
lay  through  a  succession  of  swamps  and  pine  forests. 
Here  and  there  was  a  rice  or  cotton  plantation,  which 
scarcely  contributed  to  diminish  the  dreariness  of  the 
prospect. 

We  travelled  all  night,  and  at  two  o'clock  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  reached  the  Ashley  river,  within  sight  of 
Charleston.  Unfortunately,  the  wind  was  too  high  for 
crossing,  and  till  nine  at  night  we  were  forced  to  remain 
in  the  ferry-house,  where  seventeen  of  us  were  crammed 
together  in  one  miserable  apartment.  What  we  should 
do  for  the  night  became  matter  of  puzzle,  but,  luckily, 
the  wind  lulled,  and  the  appearance  of  the  ferry-boat 
put  an  end  to  our  perplexities. 

Every  Englishman  who  visits  Charleston,  will,  if  he 


348  APPEARANCE  OF  CHARLESTON. 

be  wise)  direct  his  baggage  to  be  conveyed  to  Jones's 
hotel.  It  is  a  small  house,  but  every  thing  is  well  ma- 
naged, and  the  apartments  are  good.  Our  party  at  din- 
ner did  not  exceed  ten,  and  there  was  no  bolting  or 
scrambling.  Jones  is  a  black  man,  and  must  have  pros- 
pered in  the  world,  for,  I  learned,  he  was  laid  up  with 
gout, — the  disease  of  a  gentleman. 

The  pleasure  of  getting  into  such  a  house, — of  revi- 
siting the  glimpses  of  clean  tablecloths  and  silver  forks, 
— of  exchanging  salt  pork  and  greasy  corn  cakes,  for  a 
table  furnished  with  luxuries  of  all  sorts, — was  very 
great.  For  a  day  or  two,  I  experienced  a  certain  im- 
pulse to  voracity,  by  no  means  philosophical;  and,  sooth 
to  say,  after  the  privations  of  a  journey  from  New  Or- 
leans, the  luxury  of  Jones's  iced  claret  might  have  con- 
verted even  Diogenes  into  a  gourmet. 

Except  New  Orleans,  Charleston  is  the  only  place  I 
saw  in  the  Southern  States,  which  at  all  realizes  our 
English  ideas  of  a  city.  It  was  quite  a  relief,  after  the 
miserable  towns  I  had  lately  passed  through,  to  get  into 
one  bearing  the  impress  of  what — in  the  United  States, 
at  least, — may  be  called  respectable  antiquity.  The 
public  buildings  are  very  good;  and,  though  the  streets, 
separately  taken,  had  nothing  handsome  about  them,  the 
city  presents  an  appearance  of  bustle  and  animation, 
which  tends  to  redeem  minor  defects.  The  greater  part 
of  the  houses  are  of  brick,  and  there  are  many  buildings 
of  pretensions  equal  to  any  in  the  Union.  A  conside- 
rable number  of  the  better  houses  are  decorated  by  gar- 
dens, stocked  with  orange  trees,  the  pride  of  India,  and 
a  variety  of  flowering  shrubs. 

The  city  stands  on  an  isthmus  formed  by  two  rivers, 
the  Ashley  and  the  Cooper.  The  interior  abounds  in 
pestilential  marshes,  which  are  found  to  be  happily 
adapted  for  the  cultivation  of  rice,  and  the  soil,  in  drier 
situations,  produces  excellent  cotton.  These  articles  con- 
stitute the  staples  of  South  Carolina,  and  the  expendi- 
ture of  human  life  in  their  cultivation  is  very  great* — 
The  miasma  generated  by  the  rice  grounds  is  peculiarly 
fatal.  The  slaves  are  forced  to  brave  it,  but,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  health  and  strength.  They  die, — fortunately, 
perhaps, — before  their  time,  and  yet  "  so  slowly  that 
the  world  cannot  call  it  murder." 


CLIMATE  OF  CHARLESTON.  349 

In  point  of  climate,  I  believe  Charleston  is  fully  worse 
than  New  Orleans.  In  the  latter,  Creoles  are  entirely 
exempt  from  the  ravages  of  the  prevailing  endemic. 
But,  in  Charleston,  there  is  no  impunity  for  any  class. 
Even  native  Carolinians  die  of  fever  as  well  as  their 
neighbours.  The  chances  are,  that  if  a  person  from  the 
country,  however  acclimated,  sleeps  in  Charleston  even 
for  a  night,  at  a  certain  season  of  the  year,  he  catches 
the  fever.  Should  a  person  living  in  the  city  pass  a  day 
with  his  friend  in  the  country,  there  is  not  a  doctor  in 
the  place,  who,  on  his  return,  would  not  consider  him 
in  a  state  of  peril.  In  short,  the  people  of  Charleston 
pass  their  lives  in  endeavouring  to  escape  from  a  pursuer 
who  is  sure  to  overtake  the  fugitive  at  last.  At  one  sea- 
son, the  town  is  unhealthy;  and  all  who  can  afford  it, 
fly  to  their  estates.  At  another,  the  country  is  unheal- 
thy, and  they  take  up  their  abode  in  the  pine  barrens. 
From  the  pine  barrens,  they  venture  back  into  the  town, 
from  which,  in  a  short  time,  they  are  again  expelled. 

In  New  Orleans,  a  man  runs  a  certain  risk,  and  has 
done  with  it.  If  he  live,  he  continues  to  eat  crawfish 
in  a  variety  of  savoury  preparations.  If  he  die,  the 
crawfish  eat  him  without  cookery  of  any  sort.  He  has 
no  fear  of  dining  with  his  friend  in  the  country  at  any 
season  of  the  year.  But  in  Charleston,  a  man  must  be 
continually  on  the  alert;  for,  go  where  he  may,  there  is 
fever  at  his  heels.  This  continual  dodging  with  death 
strikes  me  as  very  disagreeable;  and  if  compelled  to  fix 
my  residence  in  either  city,  I  should  certainly  choose 
New  Orleans  in  preference.  This,  however,  is  mere 
matter  of  taste. 

I  was  unfortunate  in  the  time  of  my  visit  to  Charles- 
ton. On  the  day  after  my  arrival,  I  sent  round  a  consi- 
derable number  of  letters,  but  found  almost  every  body 
out  of  town.  Of  the  society  of  Charleston,  therefore,  I 
can  say  little  from  personal  observation.  But  I  have 
been  assured  from  various  quarters  that  it  is  very  agree- 
able, and  have  no  reason  to  doubt  the  accuracy  of  the 
statement. 

Finding  Charleston  in  this  deserted  state,  I  at  once 
determined  on  returning  to  New  York.  It  had  been 
my  intention  to  perform  the  journey  by  land,  but  I  was 


350         CHARACTER  OF  POPULATION. 

assured  there  was  no  object  which  would  repay  the  in- 
conveniences of  the  journey.  The  scenery  was  precise- 
ly similar  to  that  of  which  I  had  already  seen  so  much; 
the  people  not  materially  different;  and  I  confess  I  had 
become  sick  to  the  very  soul,  of  stage-coach  travelling  in 
the  south. 

My  plans,  however,  were  yet  undecided,  when, 
walking  along  one  of  the  quays,  I  saw  the  blue  Peter 
flying  from  the  top-mast  head  of  a  New  York  packet. 
The  temptation  was  irresistible.  I  went  on  board,  se- 
cured berths,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  bade  farewell  to 
Charleston  from  the  deck  of  the  Saluda. 

During  my  hurried  progress  through  the  Southern 
States,  I  was  rarely  brought  into  contact  with  men  of 
opulence  and  intelligence.  Indeed,  I  much  question 
whether  Alabama  and  Georgia  possess  any  considerable 
class  of  gentlemen,  in  the  sense  in  which  that  term  is 
applicable  to  the  better  order  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
northern  cities.  But  in  South  Carolina  it  is  otherwise. 
There  is  a  large  body  of  landed  proprietors,  who  are 
men  of  education  and  comparative  refinement;  and  who, 
though  publicly  advocating  the  broadest  principles  of 
democracy,  are  in  private  life  aristocratic  and  exclusive. 
Like  the  Virginians,  they  are  of  blood  purely  English, 
and  disposed  to  relinquish  no  claim,  which  a  descent 
from  several  generations  of  respectable  ancestors  can  be 
understood  to  confer. 

The  poles  are  not  more  diametrically  opposed,  than  a 
native  of  the  States  south  of  the  Potomac,  and  a  New- 
Englander.  They  differ  in  every  thing  of  thought, 
feeling,  and  opinion.  The  latter  is  a  man  of  regular  and 
decorous  habits,  shrewd,  intelligent,  and  persevering; 
phlegmatic  in  temperament,  devoted  to  the  pursuits  of 
gain,  and  envious  of  those  who  are  more  successful  than 
himself.  The  former — I  speak  of  the  opulent  and  edu- 
cated— is  distinguished  by  a  high-mindedness,  generosity, 
and  hospitality,  by  no  means  predicable  of  his  more  east- 
ern neighbours.  He  values  money  only  for  the  enjoy- 
ments it  can  procure,  is  fond  of  gaiety,  given  to  social 
pleasures,  somewhat  touchy  and  choleric,  and  as  eager 
to  avenge  an  insult  as  to  show  a  kindness.  To  fight  a 
duel  in  the  New  England  States  would,  under  almost 


ARRIVAL  AT  NEW  YORK.  351 

any  circumstances,  be  disgraceful.  To  refuse  a  challenge, 
to  tolerate  even  an  insinuation  derogatory  from  personal 
honour,  would  be  considered  equally  so  in  the  South. 

In  point  of  manner,  the  Southern  gentlemen  are  deci- 
dedly superior  to  all  others  of  the  Union.  Being  more 
dependent  on  social  intercourse,  they  are  at  greater  pains, 
perhaps,  to  render  it  agreeable.  There  is  more  spirit 
and  vivacity  about  them,  and  far  less  of  that  prudent 
caution,  which,  however  advantageous  on  the  exchange, 
is  by  no  means  prepossessing  at  the  dinner-table,  or  in, 
the  drawing-room.  When  at  Washington,  I  was  a  good 
deal  thrown  into  the  society  of  members  from  the  South, 
and  left  it  armed,  by  their  kindness,  with  a  multitude  of 
letters,  of  which  I  regret  that  my  hurried  progress  did 
not  permit  me  to  avail  myself.  Many  of  them  were 
men  of  much  accomplishment,  and  I  think  it  probable 
that  Englishmen  unconnected  with  business  would  ge- 
nerally prefer  the  society  of  gentlemen  of  this  portion  of 
the  Union  to  any  other  which  the  country  affords. 

In  passing  the  bar,  the  Saluda  unfortunately  ran 
aground,  but  was  soon  floated  by  the  returning  tide.  No 
other  accident  occurred.  Our  voyage  was  prosperous, 
and  the  pleasure  of  inhaling  the  pure  sea-breeze,  instead 
of  an  atmosphere  poisoned  by  marsh  exhalations,  very 
great.  In  six  days,  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  again  find" 
ing  myself  at  New  York. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

JOURNEY  TO  NIAGARA THE  FALLS. 

IN  one  respect  New  York  was  somewhat  different 
from  what  1  remembered  it.  The  gay  season  had  passed. 
There  were  no  routs,  no  balls,  few  parties  of  any  sort; 
all  was  gravity  and  family  seclusion.  Some  families 
had  removed  to  the  country ;  others  were  preparing  for 
a  trip  to  Canada  or  Boston.  Still  I  had  the  good  fortune 


352  WEST  POINT. 

to  encounter  many  of  my  former  friends,  with  whom  I 
enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  renewing  my  intercourse. 

I  believe  this  pleasure,  unsupported  by  reasons  of 
greater  cogency,  made  me  imagine  a  fortnight's  breathing- 
time  to  be  necessary,  between  the  journey  just  accom- 
plished, and  that  which  I  yet  meditated  to  Niagara  and 
Quebec.  Nothing  of  any  consequence,  however,  oc- 
curred during  this  interval;  and  as  I  always  found  the 
flight  of  time  to  be  unusually  rapid  at  New  York,  the 
period  fixed  for  departure  soon  came. 

On  the  30th  of  May,  I  ran  up  the  Hudson  to  West 
Point,  about  fifty  miles  from  New  York.  The  scenery, 
now  clad  in  all  the  verdure  of  summer,  certainly  tran- 
scended every  thing  I  had  ever  seen  on  a  scale  so  exten- 
sive. What  struck  me  as  chiefly  admirable,  was  the 
fine  proportion  of  the  different  features  of  the  landscape. 
Taken  separately,  they  were  not  much.  Every  one  has 
seen  finer  rocks  and  loftier  mountains,  and  greater  mag- 
nificence of  forest  scenery,  but  the  charm  lay  in  the  com- 
bination, in  that  exquisite  harmony  of  detail  which  pro- 
duces— if  I  may  so  write — a  synthetic  beauty  of  the 
highest  order. 

"  'TIs  not  a  lip  or  cheek,  we  beauty  call, 
But  the  joint  force,  and  full  result  of  all" 

The  Hudson,  in  truth,  is  one  of  nature's  felicities. 
Every  thing  is  in  its  proper  place,  and  of  the  dimensions 
most  proper  to  contribute  to  the  general  effect.  Add 
elevation  to  the  mountains,  and  the  consequence  of  the 
river  would  be  diminished.  Increase  the  expanse  of  the 
river,  and  you  impair  the  grandeur  of  the  mountains.  As 
it  is,  there  is  a  perfect  subordination  of  parts,  and  the  re- 
sult is  something  on  which  the  eye  loves  to  gaze,  and  the 
heart  to  meditate,  which  tinges  our  dreams  with  beauty, 
and  often  in  distant  lands  will  recur,  unbidden,  to  the 
imagination. 

At  West  Point  is  a  national  establishment  for  the  edu- 
cation of  young  men  destined  for  the  army.  I  had  letters 
to  Colonel  Thayer,  the  commandant,  a  clever  and  intelli- 
gent officer,  who  has  made  it  his  pleasure,  as  well  as  his 
business,  to  acquire  an  intimate  knowledge  of  tactic  in  all 
its  branches.  By  him,  I  was  conducted  over  the  esta- 


HYDE  PARK.  353 

blishment,  and  in  the  system  of  discipline  and  education 
found  much  to  approve.  The  cadets  wear  uniform,  and 
are  habitually  inured  to  the  disagreeables— so  I  remem- 
ber I  used  to  think  them — of  garrison  duty.  In  the  eve- 
ning the  young  gentlemen  displayed  their  proficiency  in 
practical  gunnery,  and  with  some  light  pieces  made  se- 
veral good  shots  at  a  target  across  the  river.  The  dis- 
tance, I  believe,  was  about  eight  hundred  yards.  The 
guns,  however,  were  not  served  in  a  military  manner,  nor 
with  that  speed  and  regularity  which  are  essential  to  the 
practical  efficiency  of  the  arm. 

I  may  also  observe,  that  the  carriage  of  the  cadets  was 
less  soldier-like  than  might  be  wished.  In  most  of  them, 
I  remarked  a  certain  slouch  about  the  shoulders,  which 
demanded  the  judicious  application  of  back-boards  and 
dumb  bells.  But,  in  truth,  the  remark  is  applicable  to 
the  whole  population.  Colonel  Thayer  himself  is  almost 
the  only  man  whom  I  chanced  to  encounter  in  my  tra- 
vels, who  appeared  to  me  to  possess  any  thing  of  the  true 
military  bearing.  In  him  it  was  perfect.  I  believe  he 
might  brave  the  criticism  of  a  Sergeant-Major  of  the 
Guards. 

Having  passed  a  pleasant  day  at  West  Point,  I  pro- 
ceeded to  Dr.  Hosack's  about  thirty  miles  distant.  I  had 
before  visited  Hyde  Park  in  the  depth  of  winter,  I  now 
beheld  its  fine  scenery  adorned  by  the  richest  luxuriance 
of  verdure.  Poet  or  painter  could  desire  nothing  more 
beautiful.  There  are  several  villas  in  the  neighbourhood 
tenanted  by  very  agreeable  families,  and  had  it  been  ne- 
cessary to  eat  lotus  in  the  United  States,  I  should  cer- 
tainly have  selected  Hyde  Park  as  the  scene  of  my  re- 
past. But  I  had  determined  on  returning  to  England  in 
the  course  of  the  summer,  and  was,  therefore,  anxious  to 
proceed  on  my  journey.  On  the  third  day,  I  bade  fare- 
well to  my  kind  friends — for  so,  I  trust,  they  will  permit 
me  to  call  them — and  again  embarked  on  the  Hudson. 

The  scenery  above  Hyde  Park  assumes  a  new  charac- 
ter. The  river  leads  through  a  gently  undulating  coun^ 
try,  and  its  banks  present  a  succession  of  agreeable  villas. 
I  passed  the  Catskill  mountains  with  regret.  Their  as- 
pect is  fine  and  commanding,  and  I  was  assured  the  views 
from  the  summit  are  very  splendid.  I  was  yet  unde- 

45 


354  SHAKER  VILLAGE. 

cided  whether  I  should  visit  them,  when  a  summons  to 
dinner  occasioned  an  adjournment  of  the  debate.  When 
1  returned  to  the  deck,  we  had  passed  the  Catskill  land- 
ing-place, and  I  continued  my  route  to  Albany. 

Albany  is  the  capital  of  the  State  of  New  York.  It  is 
finely  situated  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  which  rises  from 
the  margin  of  the  river.  On  the  summit  stands  the  State- 
house,  grandiloquently  called  the  Capitol,  a  building  of 
some  extent,  but  no  beauty.  None  of  the  public  build- 
ings present  any  thing  remarkable,  but  the  town  has  an 
antique  appearance,  rare  in  this  country,  and  contains 
some  of  the  primitive  and  picturesque  buildings  erected 
by  the  Dutch  settlers.  The  streets  struck  me  as  being 
particularly  clean,  and  the  general  aspect  of  the  place  is 
pleasing. 

I  had  heard  much  of  a  Shaker  village  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  the  day  following  being  Sunday,  I  drove 
to  it  with  the  view  of  seeing  their  form  of  worship.  The 
name  of  this  peaceful  settlement  is  Niskayuma,  and  its 
inhabitants  possess  a  valuable  estate  of  about  two  thou- 
sand acres,  which  their  labour  has  brought  into  high  cul- 
tivation. These  simple  enthusiasts  hold  every  thing  in 
common,  and  their  tenets,  so  far  as  I  could  understand 
them,  are  curious  enough. 

Anne  Lee,  a  woman  who  came  to  America  many  years 
ago,  and  brought  with  her  the  gift  of  tongues  and  of  pro- 
phecy, is  the  object  of  peculiar  veneration.  With  such 
evidences  of  inspiration,  she  of  course  became  the  founder 
of  a  sect.  Though  herself  the  wife  of  an  honest  blacksmith, 
Mrs.  Lee  inculcated  the  indispensable  necessity  of  abso- 
lute and  entire  celibacy,  which,  on  spiritual  grounds, 
she  maintained  to  be  essential  to  salvation.  Sensual  en- 
joyment of  every  kind  was  expressly  forbidden,  and 
though  such  tenets  were  little  calculated  to  allure  the  fair 
or  the  young,  Mother  Anne  contrived  to  gather  about 
her  a  society  of  disappointed  maidens  and  withered  ba- 
chelors,— of  all,  in  short,  who,  having  survived  the  age 
of  passion,  were  content  to  make  a  merit  of  resigning 
pleasures  in  which  they  could  no  longer  participate.  The 
number  of  her  followers  was  increased  by  the  accession 
of  a  few  less  antiquated  enthusiasts,  and  an  occasional 
accouchement  among  the  fair  sisterhood  affords  matter  of 


SHAKER  SERMON.  355 

jest  to  the  profane.  Mother  Anne  has  long  gone  the 
way  of  all  flesh,  but  her  memory  is  yet  (t  green  in  the 
souls  "  of  her  followers,  who  speak  of  her  as  a  pure  in- 
carnation of  the  Divine  Spirit. 

When  I  arrived,  public  worship  had  already  com- 
menced, and  the  congregation  were  engaged  in  singing. 
The  music  was  monotonous,  and  the  words  nonsense,  or 
something  nearly  approaching  it.  The  men  were  drawn 
up  on  one  side  of  the  chapel  and  the  women  on  the  other. 
The  latter  were  the  veriest  scarecrows  I  had  ever  seen 
in  the  female  form.  They  were  old  and  cadaverous, 
with  the  exception  of  one  bright-eyed  girl,  whose  ex- 
pression bespoke  a  temperament  little  fitted  for  the  as- 
cetic abstinence  of  her  sect.  The  men  were  poor-look- 
ing creatures  enough,  but  their  appearance,  on  the  whole, 
was  a  little  better  than  that  of  the  women. 

Both,  however,  were  critically  clean.  The  men  were 
without  coats,  but  rejoiced  in  snuff-coloured  waistcoats, 
and  unimaginables,  and  white  neckcloths.  The  charms  of 
the  women  were  displayed  in  gray  gowns,  and  white 
muslin  handkerchiefs,  and  caps  nicely  plaited. 

The  singing  concluded,  we  had  something  like  a  sermon. 
One  of  the  brethren  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the  room 
or  chapel,  and  commenced  in  a  calm  deliberate  tone,  as 
follows: — 

"  We  can  do  nothing  of  ourselves.  Every  thing  good 
in  us  is  the  gift  of  God.  Yet  man  is  very  fond  of  rely- 
ing on  himself  and  his  own  efforts,  and  almost  all  those 
who  have  been  distinguished  by  spiritual  gifts,  through 
all  the  ages  of  the  world,  have  had  this  grand  defect  in 
their  character.  But  the  truth  is,  my  brethren,  we  are  all 
helpless  without  the  gift  of  grace,  and  if  we,  who  have 
separated  ourselves  from  the  world,  retiring  from  its 
temptations,  and  renouncing  its  pomps  and  vices,  find 
ground  for  spiritual  pride  in  this  devotion  of  ourselves 
to  the  service  of  God,  we  are  guilty  of  a  very  great  sin, 
and  a  sin  more  unpardonable  in  us  than  others,  because 
our  light  is  greater.  I  would  impress  this  on  you,  there- 
fore, not  to  be  vainglorious  on  account  of  the  favour  you 
have  found  in  the  sight  of  God,  but  to  go  on  steadily, 
humbly,  gratefully,  and  submissively;  looking  neither  to 
the  right  hand  nor  the  left,  remembering  always  that 


356  SINGING  AND  DANCING. 

your  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,  but  of  another  and  a 
better.  Thank  God  for  all  his  mercies,  my  brethren,  but 
be  not,  therefore,  puffed  up." 

After  this  we  had  another  song,  quite  as  nonsensical 
as  the  former,  which  was  followed  by  a  second  discourse. 
The  preacher  on  this  occasion  was  a  fat,  jolly-looking 
man,  whose  comfortable  plight  formed  something  of  a 
contrast  with  the  mummy-like  aspect  of  his  brethren. 
The  only  remarkable  portion  of  the  discourse  was  the 
peroration,  in  which  he  addressed  himself  particularly  to 
those,  who,  like  myself,  had  visited  the  meeting  from 
motives  of  mere  curiosity. 

"  Strangers,  1  would  address  myself  to  you.  What 
motives  brought  you  to  this  place  of  worship,  I  know 
not.  Some  may  have  come  to  join  in  our  devotions, 
but  the  greater  part  of  you,  I  fear,  have  come  only  to  see 
the  peculiarities  of  our  worship.  To  this  we  do  not  ob- 
ject. We  court  no  concealment  in  any  thing  we  do, 
but  we  demand  of  you,  in  return,  that  you  offer  no  inde- 
cent interruption  to  our  religious  solemnities.  I  beseech 
you  to  remember  that  we  are  Christians  like  yourselves 
— that  we  are  engaged  in  offering  adoration  to  the  great 
God  who  fashioned  us  all  as  we  are.  If  you  do  not  re- 
spect us,  respect  yourselves;  and,  however  ridiculous  our 
forms  may  appear  to  you,  we  entreat  that  you  will,  at 
least,  not  interrupt  our  devotional  exercises  by  any  de- 
monstration of  contempt." 

After  such  an  appeal  it  became  impossible  for  the  most 
graceless  spectator  to  offer  any  thing  like  insult  to  these 
simple  fanatics.  During  the  dance  which  followed,  how- 
ever, I  confess  I  had  a  good  deal  of  difficulty  in  maintain- 
ing due  composure.  On  a  given  signal  the  whole  con- 
gregation began  singing  and  dancing  with  all  their  vi- 
gour. I  observed  that  the  more  youthful  and  active  in- 
troduced a  few  supererogatory  gyrations,  which  were 
not  attempted  by  the  senior  members;  and  one  boy,  in 
particular,  signalized  himself  by  a  series  of  spirited  salta- 
tions, not  very  dissimilar  to  the  Highland  fling.  My 
attention,  too,  was  attracted  by  the  two  preachers,  who, 
though  somewhat  fallen  into  "  the  sere,  the  yellow  leaf," 
kept  capering  about  with  the  lightness  and  grace  of  cart- 
horses, till  the  very  end  of  the  performance. 


BAPTISM.  357 

The  dance  laste'd  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  I 
could  not  help  sympathizing  with  the  suffering  perfor- 
mers. The  weather  was  intensely  hot,  and  the  whole 
corps  de  ballet  were  thrown  by  their  movements  into  a 
state  of  the  most  profuse  perspiration.  This  circumstance 
produced  a  change  in  the  condition  of  the  atmosphere  by 
no  means  pleasant,  and,  without  waiting  the  conclusion 
of  the  service,  I  took  my  departure. 

From  the  Shaker  settlement  I  drove  to  the  Cohoes 
Falls,  about  five  miles  distant.  The  Mohawk,  a  river 
about  as  large  as  the  Severn,  comes  foaming  down, 
throws  itself  over  a  precipice  of  about  seventy  feet  with 
great  majesty,  and  then  flows  calmly  onwards  to  its  con- 
fluence with  the  Hudson.  The  sight  was  very  noble; 
and,  after  enjoying  it  about  half  an  hour,  I  set  out  on  my 
return  to  Albany. 

The  junction  of  the  Champlain  and  Erie  canals,  near 
Troy,  is  considered  a  sight  to  which  the  admiration  of 
travellers  is  justly  due.  Why,  I  know  not.  To  my  ig- 
norant vision  there  seemed  nothing  remarkable.  The 
canals  are  united,  and  there  is  an  end  of  it.  Of  the 
amount  of  difficulties  overcome  I  do  not  pretend  to  be 
qualified  to  judge. 

A  little  above  Troy  I  observed  a  crowd  collected  on 
the  river,  and  found  they  were  attracted  by  the  ceremo- 
ny of  baptism,  which  two  Baptist  clergymen  were  per- 
forming on  sundry  proselytes.  The  first  subject  of  im- 
mersion was  an  old  lady,  whose  cold  and  shivering  ap- 
pearance excited  my  compassion.  She  was  led  in  by 
one  of  the  clergymen  till  the  water  reached  her  middle, 
when  they  both — somewhat  rudely,  I  thought — seized 
the  dowager  by  the  shoulders,  and  throwing  her  back 
with  a  sudden  jerk,  soused  her  over  head  and  ears  in 
the  water  before  she  seemed  aware  of  their  intentions. 
Luckily,  the  poor  woman  escaped  absolute  suffocation, 
and,  with  an  aspect  something  like  that  of  a  drowned 
rat,  was  supported  to  the  shore.  Her  sufferings,  howe- 
ver, did  not  terminate  here.  The  word  snuff  was  writ- 
ten on  the  nose  of  one  of  the  clergymen  so  legibly,  that 
he  who  ran  might  read.  I  observed  that  immediately 
after  employing  his  pocket-handkerchief  in  its  most  ap- 
propriate function,  he  applied  it  to  the  eyes  of  the  pa- 
tient matron!  This  was  even  worse  than  the  ducking. 


358  THE  FALLS  OF  TRENTON. 

At  Albany,  a  traveller  has  the  choice  of  proceeding 
by  stage-coach  or  canal.  I  preferred  the  former,  and, 
accordingly,  secured  places  for  Utica.  The  coach  was 
full,  and  the  heat  so  excessive,  that,  till  we  reached  Sche- 
nectady,  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  experienced  greater 
suffering.  There,  however,  our  fellow-travellers  em- 
barked on  the  canal,  and  the  rest  of  the  journey  was  per- 
formed in  comparative  comfort.  The  road — one  of  the 
roughest  I  ever  travelled — winds  along  the  banks  of  the 
Mohawk,  through  a  country  which  presents  many  noble 
features.  In  point  of  cultivation,  however,  it  appeared 
very  inferior  to  what  might  be  expected  in  so  populous 
a  district.  The  greater  part  of  the  journey  was  per- 
formed by  night,  yet  not  in  darkness;  for,  we  had  the 
light  of  a  brilliant  moon,  which  softened  without  ob- 
scuring the  landscape. 

About  eleven  o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  we 
reached  Utica,  a  handsome  and  flourishing  town,  which 
exhibits  every  external  mark  of  prosperity.  After  dinner, 
I  engaged  what  is  called  an  "extra  exclusive"  to  convey 
me  to  Trenton  Falls,  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles.  We 
did  not  reach  Trenton  till  after  nightfall,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  delay  the  gratification  of  my  curiosity  till  the 
following  morning.  The  inn,  however,  was  very  com- 
fortable, and,  after  the  jolting  of  the  previous  night,  the 
attractions  of  clean  sheets  and  a  well  stuffed  mattress 
were  by  no  means  inconsiderable.  After  breakfast,  on 
the  following  morning,  I  sallied  forth  to  visit  the  falls. 
They  are  formed  by  the  West  Canada  creek  in  its  pas- 
sage through  a  glen  or  ravine  about  two  miles  in  length, 
in  the  course  of  which  it  descends  about  three  hundred 
feet.  As  may  be  supposed  in  such  circumstances,  the 
stream  rushes  onward  with  great  violence.  There  are 
several  falls,  none  of  which  are  without  beauty,  and  the 
whole  scenery  struck  me  as  bearing  strong  resemblance 
to  that  of  Roslin  glen,  to  which,  except  in  romantic  as- 
sociations, it  is  in  nothing  inferior. 

The  fall  which  pleased  me  most  is  one  in  which  the  tor- 
rent takes  a  double  leap,  the  last  of  which  is  about  forty 
feet.  The  surrounding  rocks  are  grand  and  precipitous, 
and  their  crevices  afford  nourishment  to  trees  which  are 
writhed  into  a  thousand  fantastic  forms.  There  is  one 
sad  drawback,  however.  At  precisely  the  most  beauti- 


JOURNEY  BY  CANAL.  359 

ful  point  of  the  scene  there  has  been  erected — what, 
good  reader  ? — but  you  will  never  guess — a  dram  shop  ! 

How  utterly  so  wild  and  beautiful  a  scene  is  degraded 
by  the  presence  of  a  drinking  shop,  may  readily  be  con- 
ceived ;  and  the  outrage  on  taste,  and  even  decency,  is  the 
more  gratuitous,  since  the  spot  on  which  the  building  is 
erected  is  not  above  a  mile  from  the  hotel. 

On  such  occasions,  one  is  betrayed  unawares  into 
writing  strongly.  But  cui  bono  ?  A  writer  may  appeal  to 
a  moral  sense,  but  he  cannot  create  one ;  and,  assuredly, 
the  man  whose  imagination  turns  to  the  brandy  bottle, 
even  when  gazing  on  the  noble  scenery  of  Trenton,  will 
think  of  it  in  the  death-agony. 

Being  still  sore  from  the  jolting  of  the  stage  coach,  I 
determined  to  proceed  by  the  canal,  and  at  two  o'clock, 
on  the  following  day,  went  on  board  the  passage-boat. 
There  were  about  forty  passengers ;  the  heat  of  the  ca- 
bin was  intolerable.  Driven  from  within,  I  took  a  seat 
on  deck,  but  without  diminution  of  suffering.  I  found 
myself  exposed  to  the  full  fervour  of  the  sun,  and  the 
boards  were  literally  burning  to  the  feet.  Add  to  this 
the  nuisance  of  the  numerous  bridges,  the  arches  of 
which  are  barely  high  enough  to  admit  the  passage  of 
the  boat,  and  leave  to  the  passengers  only  the  option  of 
descending  every  time  they  approach  one,  or  of  being 
swept  off  by  a  more  summary  process. 

The  country  through  which  we  passed,  consisted,  chief- 
ly, of  marshy  forest,  such  as  I  had  traversed  for  many  a 
weary  league  in  the  south.  Every  here  and  there  a 
town  had  sprung  up  in  the  wilderness,  but  with  nothing 
to  interest  the  spectator,  who  sees  every  where  but  one 
process  and  one  result.  He  looks  for  the  picturesque,  and 
finds  the  profitable,  and  wishes  from  the  bottom  of  his 
heart  they  had  been  found  compatible. 

The  Americans  are  dilettanti  in  nomenclature.  In  fol- 
lowing the  course  of  the  Erie  Canal,  a  traveller  will  pass 
through  Troy,  Amsterdam,  Frankfort,  Manlius,  Syra- 
cuse, Canton,  Jordan,  Port  Byron,  Montezuma,  Rome, 
Smith's,  Dumkin's,  Carthage,  Salina,  Rochester,  Ogden, 
Geddes,  and  Palmyra.  The  Eternal  City  here  dwindles 
into  "  a  half-shire  town,  which  contains  a  court  house  and 
gaol,  and  is  pleasantly  situated  on  the  old  canal !"  So 


360  CANAL  PASSAGE  BOAT. 

says  the  guide-book.  Amsterdam  is  more  fortunate,  for 
it  boasts  "  a  post-office,  a  church,  and  about  fifty  houses 
or  stores."  Palmyra  is  charmingly  located  on  Mud 
Creek.  Carthage  derived  its  consequence  from  a  bridge 
which  "  fell  under  the  pressure  of  its  own  weight."  The 
maxim,  delenda  est  Carthago,  therefore,  is  likely  to  be  re- 
alized in  the  new  world,  as  well  as  in  the  old. 

Such  absurdities  are  fair  game,  for  they  have  their 
origin  in  vanity.  To  adorn  their  cities  by  monuments  of 
art  is  an  expensive  indulgence,  from  which  Americans  are 
content  to  abstain.  But  pretension  of  name  costs  nothing, 
and  is  found  every  where. 

During  the  day  the  number  of  passengers  increased  to 
about  sixty,  including  twenty  ladies;  and  where  this  large 
party  were  to  be  stowed  for  the  night,  it  was  not  easy  to 
anticipate.  In  the  cabin  there  was  no  appearance  of 
sleeping  berths  by  day,  but  at  night  ranges  of  shelves 
were  put  up,  and  the  chairs,  benches,  and  tables,  were 
all  converted  into  beds.  The  portion  of  the  cabin  des- 
tined for  the  use  of  the  ladies  was  obscured  from  observa- 
tion by  a  curtain.  In  order  to  prevent  partiality,  there 
was  a  sort  of  lottery,  in  which  each  person  drew  forth  a 
number  which  determined  his  position  for  the  night. 
Fortune  fixed  me  on  the  table,  and  there  I  lay  with  the 
knee  of  one  man  thrust  directly  into  my  stomach,  and 
with  my  feet  resting  upon  the  head  of  another.  The 
sheets  were  offensively  dirty,  and  the  blankets  not  much 
better. 

The  Americans  dread  the  circulation  of  pure  air;  and 
those  in  the  vicinity  of  a  window  insisted  on  its  being 
closed.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  atmosphere  be- 
came not  only  hot,  but  poisonous,  and  the  act  of  inhala- 
tion was  performed  with  disgust.  Then  there  were 
legions  of  moschetoes,  whose  carnival,  from  the  use  they 
made  of  it,  seemed  to  have  been  preceded  by  a  lent;  and 
to  crown  all,  at  least  a  dozen  noses  were  snoring  bass 
to  an  unmelodious  treble  which  proceeded  from  the  ladies' 
division  of  the  cabin. 

One  night  of  this  kind  was  enough;  and  so,  at  Mon- 
tezuma,  being  anxious  to  see  something  of  the  smaller 
lakes,  of  whose  beauty  I  had  heard  a  great  deal,  I  removed 
into  another  packet-boat,  and  diverging  into  a  branch 


JEMIMA  WILSON.  361 

canal  which  communicates  with  the  Seneca  lake,  at  night 
found  myself  in  Geneva.  The  town  makes  a  handsome 
display  on  an  eminence  near  the  northern  extremity  of 
the  lake.  It  contains  some  three  or  four  thousand  in- 
habitants, several  churches,  and  a  school  dignified  by  the 
name  of  a  college.  Near  to  the  lake  are  a  few  pretty 
villas,  and  in  the  town  a  considerable  number  of  respect- 
able houses,  built  of  brick  or  stone.  Geneva  is  the  de- 
pot of  the  produce  of  the  neighbouring  country.  It 
comes  by  the  lake,  and  is  then  embarked  on  the  canal  for 
New  York. 

Seneca  is  a  fine  sheet  of  water,  undoubtedly,  but  its 
scenery — so  far  as  I  saw  it — presents  nothing  of  remark- 
able beauty.  It  is  about  forty  miles  long,  with  a  mean 
breadth  of  three  or  four.  It  is  navigated  by  a  steam-boat, 
in  which,  had  the  weather  been  cooler,  I  should  probably 
have  made  a  trip.  As  it  was,  the  temptations  of  an  arm- 
chair and  a  cool  veranda  were  irresistible. 

The  banks  of  the  Seneca,  like  those  of  the  Gareloch, 
have  been  the  chosen  seat  of  miracles.  Some  years  ago, 
a  woman  called  Jemima  Wilkinson,  announced  herself  as 
the  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  attracted  a  few  followers 
somewhat  more  mad  than  herself.  While  her  miraculous 
endowments  were  displayed  only  in  the  jabbering  of  un- 
known tongues,  and  unintelligible  predictions,  she  stood 
on  safe  ground,  but  unluckily  her  ambition  pointed  to 
the  honour  of  more  palpable  miracles.  "  Near  Rapelyeas 
ferry,"  says  the  Northern  Tourist,  "  the  frame  is  still 
standing  which  Jemima  constructed  to  try  the  faith  of 
her  followers.  Having  approached  within  a  few  hundred 
yards  of  the  shore,  she  alighted  from  an  elegant  car- 
riage, and  the  road  being  strewed  by  her  followers  with 
white  handkerchiefs,  she  walked  to  the  platform,  and 
having  announced  her  intention  of  walking  across  the 
lake  on  the  water,  she  stepped  ankle-deep  into  the  clear 
element,  when  suddenly  pausing,  she  addressed  the  mul- 
titude, inquiring  whether  they  had  faith  that  she  could 
pass  over,  for  if  otherwise,  she  could  not;  and  on  re- 
ceiving an  affirmative  answer,  returned  to  her  carriage, 
declaring,  that  as  they  believed  in  her  power,  it  was  un- 
necessary to  display  it. "  Miss  Campbell,  I  believe,  with 

46 


362  FALLS  OF  THE  GENESEE. 

similar  pretensions,  has  been  equally  prudent  in  putting 
them  to  the  proof. 

On  the  night  following,  I  left  Geneva,  by  the  Roches- 
ter stage.  By  day-dawn,  we  reached  Canandaigua,  which 
stands  at  the  northern  extremity  of  a  beautiful  lake,  of 
which  I  caught  a  few  glimpses  in  the  moonshine.  Ca- 
nandaigua is  a  pretty  village,  and  certainly  the  situation 
has  a  good  deal  of  charm.  More  attention  seems  to  have 
been  paid  here  than  elsewhere,  to  external  decoration. 
The  better  houses  are  surrounded  by  ornamental  trees, 
and  the  number  of  these  is  so  considerable  as  to  give  a 
character  to  the  place.  In  general,  however,  I  have  not 
been  struck  with,  what  in  this  country  are  called,  "  beau- 
tiful villages."  These  consist  almost  uniformly  of  rows 
of  white  framework  houses,  with  green  blinds  and  shut- 
ters; but  they  are  flimsy  in  point  of  material,  and  the  co- 
lours are  too  glaring  to  harmonize  with  the  surrounding 
scenery. 

We  reached  Rochester  under  the  influence  of  a  burn- 
ing sun.  The  hotel  was  excellent,  and  the  luxury  of 
eold  baths,  and  the  civility  of  the  landlord,  induced  me 
to  delay  progress  to  the  following  day.  In  the  cool  of 
the  evening,  I  strolled  out  to  see  the  falls  of  the  Genesee. 
The  height  of  the  uppermost  is  considerable,  being  about 
ninety  feet,  and  the  water  rushes  over  it  gracefully 
enough,  but  the  vicinity  of  sundry  saw  and  corn  mills 
has  destroyed  the  romantic  interest  which  invested  it  in 
the  days  when  "  the  cataract  blew  his  trumpet  from  the 
steep,"  amid  the  stillness  of  the  surrounding  forest. 

The  old  proverb  de  gustibus,  &cc.  receives  illustration 
in  every  country.  An  eccentric  man,  called  Sam  Patch, 
having  an  aversion  to  honest  industry,  made  it  his  pro- 
fession to  jump  over  all  the  water-falls  in  the  country. 
Niagara  was  too  much  for  him,  but  he  sprang  from  a 
lofty  rock,  some  distance  below  the  Horse-shoe  fall,  with 
impunity.  His  last  jump  was  at  the  fall  I  have  just  de- 
scribed, of  the  Genesee,  in  the  autumn  of  1829.  From 
a  scaffold,  elevated  twenty-five  feet  above  the  table  rock, 
making  a  descent,  altogether,  of  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  feet,  he  fearlessly  plunged  into  the  boiling  caldron 
beneath.  From  the  moment  of  his  immersion,  he  was 
seen  no  more.  His  body  was  not  discovered  for  many 


THE  RIDGE  ROAD.  363 

months,  and  was  at  length  found  at  the  mouth  of  the  ri- 
ver, six  miles  below. 

Rochester  is  a  place  worth  seeing.  Twenty  years  ago 
there  was  not  a  house  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  now 
there  is  a  town,  containing  thirteen  thousand  good  Ame- 
ricans and  true,  with  churches,  banks,  theatres,  and  all 
other  oppidan  appurtenances  to  match.  Such  growth  is 
more  like  forcing  in  a  hot-bed,  than  the  natural  progress 
of  human  vegetation.  For  a  great  deal  of  its  prosperity, 
Rochester  is  indebted  to  the  Erie  canal,  which  brought 
its  advantageous  proximity  to  Lake  Ontario  into  full 
play.  The  canal  runs  through  the  centre  of  the  town, 
and  crosses  the  Genesee  by  an  aqueduct,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  Northern  Tourist,  "  cost  rising  of  80,000  dol- 
lars," whatever  sum  that  may  amount  to.  There  are 
several  streets  in  Rochester  which  might  be  backed  at 
reasonable  odds  against  any  in  Hull  or  Newcastle,  to  say 
nothing  of  Cork,  Falmouth,  or  Bervvick-upon-Tweed. 
The  appearance  of  the  shops  indicates  the  prevalence  of 
respectable  opulence.  Those  of  the  jewellers  display  a 
stock  of  Paris  trinkets  and  silver  snuff-boxes.  There 
are  silks  and  Leghorn  bonnets  for  the  seduction  of  the 
ladies,  and  the  windows  of  the  tailors  are  adorned  by 
coloured  prints  of  gentlemen  in  tight  fitting,  swallow- 
tails, with  the  epigraph,  "  New  York  fashions  for  May." 

After  passing  a  comfortable  day  and  night  in  the  Ea- 
gle tavern,  which  I  strongly  recommend  to  all  future  tra- 
vellers, I  took  my  departure  from  Rochester  in  the  Lock- 
port  stage.  We  travelled  by  the  "  ridge  road,"  which 
is  composed  of  hard  sand,  and  extends  along  what  has 
evidently  in  former  times  been  the  embankment  of  On- 
tario. This  ridge  road,  therefore,  is  entirely  of  nature's 
making,  and  I  shall  die  in  the  belief  that  it  is  the  very 
best  in  the  United  States.  The  coach  rolled  on  as 
smoothly  as  it  could  have  done  between  London  and 
St.  Albans,  and  I  began  to  think  of  reading,  to  have  at- 
tempted which,  in  other  portions  of  my  peregrination, 
would  have  been  strongly  indicative  of  insanity. 

I  am  aware  of  little  which  merits  record  in  the  jour- 
ney to  Lockport,  except  the  unwonted  luxury  in  which 
it  was  performed.  Towards  evening,  we  passed  a  camp 
meeting,  to  which  several  of  the  passengers  directed 


364  HISTORY  OF  MORMONISM. 

their  steps,  and  which,  under  other  circumstances,  I 
should  have  been  glad  to  visit.  We  passed,  also,  several 
parties  of  what  were  called  Mormonites,  going  to  join  a 
settlement  established  by  their  founder,  in  Ohio.  Rela- 
tive to  this  sect,  of  which  I  never  before  heard,  I  gleaned 
the  following  particulars  from  one  of  the  passengers.  A 
bankrupt  storekeeper,  whose  name,  I  think,  was  Smith, 
had  an  extraordinary  dream.  It  directed  him  to  go 
alone  to  a  particular  spot,  distinctly  indicated,  where  he 
was  to  dig  to  a  certain  depth.  This  dream  was,  of  course, 
treated  as  a  mere  delusion,  and,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases, 
was  thrice  repeated,  with  denunciation  of  heavy  punish- 
ment, in  case  of  disobedience. 

In  this  emergency,  Smith  judged  it  more  prudent  to 
shoulder  his  spade,  than  by  farther  obstinacy  to  excite 
the  vengeance  of  some  unearthly  intelligence.  Having 
dug  to  the  requisite  depth  in  the  place  commanded,  he 
found  a  book  with  golden  clasps  and  cover,  and  a  pair  of 
elegantly  mounted  spectacles,  somewhat  old-fashioned  to 
be  sure,  but  astonishing  magnifiers,  and  possessing  qua- 
lities which  it  might  puzzle  Sir  David  Brewster  to  ex- 
plain on  optical  principles. 

Smith  had  some  difficulty  in  undoing  the  clasps  of  this 
precious  volume,  but  on  opening  it,  though  his  eyes 
were  good,  it  appeared  to  contain  nothing  but  blank  pa- 
per. It  then  occurred  to  him  to  fit  on  his  spectacles, 
when,  lo!  the  whole  volume  was  filled  with  certain 
figures  and  pot-hooks  to  him  unintelligible.  Delighted 
with  his  good  fortune,  Smith  trudged  home  with  the  vo- 
lume in  his  pocket  and  the  spectacles  on  his  nose,  happy 
as  bibliomaniac  who  has  been  lucky  enough  to  purchase 
some  rare  Editio  Princeps  "  dog  cheap  "  from  the  ig- 
norant proprietor  of  an  obscure  book-stall.  On  reaching 
his  own  house,  his  first  care  was  to  secure  his  miraculous 
treasures  from  profane  observation;  his  second,  to  copy 
out  a  page  or  two  of  the  characters,  and  look  about  for 
an  interpreter.  His  search  was  long  fruitless,  but, 
at  length,  he  hit  on  precisely  the  two  individuals  who 
were  qualified  conjointly  for  the  office.  One  of  these 
gentlemen  possessed  the  faculty  of  reading  the  hiero- 
glyphics, and  the  other  of  interpreting  them.  It  then 
appeared  that  the  volume  in  question  was  entitled  the 


QUEENSTON.  365 

book  of  Mormon,  a  converted  Rabbi,  who  flourished  in 
the  clays  of  our  Saviour,  or  shortly  after,  and  who,  by 
the  aid  of  divine  inspiration,  wrote  the  treatise  in  ques- 
tion in  elucidation  of  all  the  dark  points  of  religion, 
which,  to  the  present  day,  continue  to  puzzle  theolo- 
gians. 

Smith's  worldly  prospects  now  brightened.  With 
this  invaluable  treatise  in  his  strong  box,  he  commenced 
business  afresh,  under  the  firm  of  Mormon,  Smith,  and 
Co.,  and  appears  to  possess  an  unlimited  credit  on  the  cre- 
dulity of  his  followers.  He  has  set  up  an  establishment 
something  similar  to  that  of  Mr.  Owen,  and  already 
boasts  a  considerable  number  of  opulent  believers. 

We  slept  at  Lockport,  in  a  dirty  and  uncomfortable  ta- 
vern. In  the  morning  we  were  again  in  motion.  At 
Lewistown,  a  village  on  the  frontier,  I  quitted  the  stage, 
and  despatched  a  messenger  across  the  river  to  secure 
an  extra  exclusive  for  Niagara.  The  delay  occasioned  by 
breakfast  to  an  impatient  traveller  is  generally  not  great, 
and  entering  the  ferry-boat,  I  soon  found  myself  once 
more  on  British  ground.  At  Queenston,  judging  from 
their  accent,  the  majority  of  the  inhabitants  are  Scotch; 
and  certainly  to  my  ear  the  Doric  of  my  country  never 
sounded  so  musical  before.  About  a  mile  from  the  land- 
ing-place, are  the  heights  of  Queenston,  which,  during 
the  late  war,  were  gallantly  and  successfully  defended 
by  a  small  body  of  British,  under  Sir  Isaac  Brock,  against 
an  American  force  nearly  ten  times  their  number.  The 
latter,  however,  consisted  chiefly  of  militia ;  and  had  the 
achievement  not  unfortunately  been  rendered  memora- 
ble by  the  death  of  the  British  leader,  it  would,  proba- 
bly, like  most  other  events  of  the  war,  have  been  forgot- 
ten. Its  memory,  however,  has  been  perpetuated  by  the 
erection  of  a  trophy  column  on  the  summit  of  the  height. 
It  is  composed  of  freestone,  and  about  a  hundred  and 
twenty  feet  high.  I  am  not  sure  that  in  point  of  archi- 
tecture it  is  quite  faultless.  The  shaft  struck  me  as  want- 
ing height  in  proportion  to  its  diameter,  and  the  general 
outline  somewhat  resembles  that  of  an  apothecary's  phial. 
Were  it  surmounted  by  a  statue,  the  effect  would  un- 
doubtedly be  improved. 

The  Niagara  at  Queenston  is  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 


.366  ARRIVAL  AT  NIAGARA. 

broad;  the  current  is  rapid,  and  the  depth  very  great, — 
not  less,  I  believe,  than  two  hundred  feet.  The  colour 
of  the  water  is  a  nondescript,  and  very  beautiful  shade 
between  azure  and  green.  The  banks  for  several  miles 
are  high  and  precipitous,  and  covered  with  the  primeval 
forest. 

Having  reached  Queenston,  horses  were  immediately 
harnessed  to  a  light  open  carriage,  and  we  rattled  off 
The  distance  is  about  seven  miles,  and  the  road  very 
tolerable.  As  we  advanced,  both  eye  and  ear  were 
awake  to  detect  indication  of  our  increasing  proximity  to 
the  Falls.  At  length  a  cloud  of  white  vapour,  rising  high 
above  the  foliage  of  the  distant  forest,  announced  the 
situation  of  the  great  cataract.  Shortly  after,  I  could 
detect  a  hollow  rumbling  sound  like  that  of  thunder;  but 
though  the  distance  was  every  instant  diminishing,  it  did 
not  proportionally  increase  in  loudness  or  intensity. 

About  twelve  o'clock  I  found  myself  in  Forsyth's  ho- 
tel, a  large  and  not  uncomfortable  house,  about  half  a 
mile  distant  from  the  Great  Horse-shoe  Fall.  It  stands 
upon  a  high  level  of  table  land,  and  from  the  upper  bal- 
cony the  Falls  are  distinctly  visible.  To  a  stranger  vi- 
siting Niagara  for  the  first  time,  I  do  not  know  that  this 
circumstance  is  very  desirable,  and  I  confess  the  view 
did,  in  my  own  case,  carry  with  it  something  of  disap- 
pointment. The  truth  is,  that  from  Forsyth's  you  see 
the  upper  portion  of  the  Fall ;  but  at  least  one  half  of 
the  descent,  the  boiling  caldron  below,  and  the  impene- 
trable mass  of  vapour  with  which  it  is  sublimely  and 
mysteriously  encanopied,  you  do  not  see. 

No  sooner  had  I  reached  the  hotel,  than  the  morning, 
which  had  been  louring  with  dark  and  threatening 
clouds,  set  in  with  an  absolute  tempest  of  wind  and  rain. 
It  was  impossible  to  rest,  however,  before  gazing  on  the 
great  wonder  which  I  had  travelled  so  far  to  behold;  so 
throwing  on  my  cloak,  I  sallied  forth,  bidding  defiance 
to  the  elements.  The  banks  which  descend  to  the  bed 
of  the  river  were  very  steep,  and  so  slippery  that  I  en- 
countered more  than  one  tumble  in  my  progress.  But 
this  was  nothing;  and  most  amply  was  1  repaid  for  all 
the  troubles  of  my  journey,  when,  in  a  few  minutes,  I 
found  myself  standing  on  the  very  brink  of  this  tremen- 
dous, yet  most  beautiful  cataract. 


FIRST  IMPRESSION  OF  THE  FALLS.  357 

The  spot  from  which  I  first  beheld  it  was  the  Table  rock, 
and  of  the  effect  produced  by  the  overwhelming  sublimity 
of  the  spectacle,  it  is  not  possible  to  imbody  in  words  any 
adequate  description.  The  spectator  at  first  feels  as  if 
stricken  with  catalepsy.  His  blood  ceases  to  flow,  or  rather 
is  sent  back  in  overpowering  pressure  on  the  heart.  He 
gasps,  "  like  a  drowning  man,"  to  catch  a  mouthful  of 
breath.  "  All  elements  of  soul  and  sense  "  are  absorbed 
in  the  magnitude  and  glory  of  one  single  object.  The 
past  and  future  are  obliterated,  and  he  stands  mute  and 
powerless,  in  the  presence  of  that  scene  of  awful  splen- 
dour on  which  his  gaze  is  riveted. 

In  attempting  to  convey  to  those  who  have  never  visit- 
ed the  Falls,  any  notion  of  the  impression  which  they 
produce,  I  believe  it  impossible  to  escape  the  charge  of 
exaggeration.  The  penalty  is  one  which  I  am  prepared 
to  pay.  But  the  objects  presented  by  Niagara  are  un- 
doubtedly among  those  which  exercise  a  permanent  in- 
fluence on  the  imagination  of  the  spectator.  The  day — 
the  hour — the  minute — when  his  eye  first  rested  on  the 
Great  Horse-shoe  Fall,  is  an  epoch  in  the  life  of  any  man. 
He  gazes  on  a  scene  of  splendour  and  sublimity  far  greater 
than  the  unaided  fancy  of  poet  or  painter  ever  pictured. 
He  has  received  an  impression  which  time  cannot  dimi- 
nish, and  death  only  can  efface.  The  results  of  that  sin- 
gle moment  will  extend  through  a  lifetime,  enlarge  the 
sphere  of  thought,  and  influence  the  whole  tissue  of  his 
moral  being. 

I  remained  on  the  Table  rock  till  drenched  to  the  skin,, 
and  still  lingered  in  the  hope  that  some  flash  of  the  light- 
ning— which  had  become  very  vivid — might  disclose  the 
secrets  of  the  cloudy  and  mysterious  caldron,  into  which 
the  eye  vainly  endeavoured  to  penetrate.  But  I  was  dis- 
appointed. Far  overhead  the  fearful  revelry  of  the  ele- 
ments still  continued;  but  the  lightning  seemed  to  shun 
all  approach  to  an  object  of  sublimity  equal  to  its  own. 

My  window  in  the  hotel  commanded  a  view  of  the 
Falls,  and  their  deep  and  hollow  roar  was  at  all  times 
distinctly  audible.  I  mention  this,  because,  during  the 
whole  period  of  my  stay,  the  circumstance  was  accom- 
panied by  serious  annoyance.  At  night,  it  was  impos- 
sible to  enjoy  any  thing  which  could  be  called  sleep. 
Whenever  I  closed  my  eyes,  there  was  a  torrent  foaming 


368         FORM  OP  THE  GREAT  FALL. 

before  them.  Amid  the  darkness  of  midnight  I  was  still 
gazing  on  the  Horse-shoe,  and  the  noise  of  the  cataract, 
mingling  with  these  visions  of  a  perturbed  imagination, 
contributed  to  keep  up  the  delusion.  My  dreams  were 
of  rapids  and  waterfalls,  and  the  exhaustion  produced  by 
this  state  of  continual  fever  became  so  great,  that  by  day 
I  often  wandered  to  the  quiet  recesses  of  the  forest,  where, 
undisturbed  by  the  din  of  waters,  I  might  enjoy  a  com- 
fortable nap. 

On  the  day  after  my  arrival,  the  weather  having  for- 
tunately become  fine,  my  hours  were  devoted  to  the 
Horse-shoe,  which  I  viewed  from  every  favourable  point. 
About  half  a  mile  below,  there  is  a  shantee  or  log  tavern, 
where  brandy  is  attainable  by  gentlemen  of  sluggish  tem- 
perament, who,  surrounded  by  such  objects,  still  require 
the  stimulus  of  alcohol.  From  this  tavern  there  is  a  cir- 
cular wooden  stair  which  leads  down  into  the  bed  of  the 
river,  and  on  descending,  I  found  myself  at  once  immersed 
in  a  region  of  eternal  moisture.  By  dint  of  scrambling 
along  the  debris  of  the  overhanging  rocks,  I  contrived  to 
approach  within  a  short  distance  of  the  Fall;  and  so 
powerful  is  the  impression  here  produced,  that  a  consi- 
derable time  elapses  before  the  spectator  can  command 
his  faculties  in  a  sufficient  degree  to  examine  its  details. 
He  stands  amid  a  whirlwind  of  spray,  and  the  gloom  of 
the  abyss,  the  dark  firmament  of  rock  which  threatens 
destruction  to  the  intruder,  the  terrors  of  the  descending 
torrent,  the  deep  thunder  of  its  roar,  and  the  fearful  con- 
vulsion of  the  waters  into  which  it  falls,  constitute  the 
features  of  a  scene,  the  sublimity  of  which  undoubtedly 
extends  to  the  very  verge  of  horror. 

The  epithet  of  "  the  Horse-shoe"  is  no  longer  applica- 
ble to  the  greater  Fall.  In  the  progress  of  those  changes 
which  are  continually  taking  place  from  the  attrition  of 
the  cataract,  it  has  assumed  a  form  which  I  should  de- 
scribe as  that  of  a  semihexagon.  The  vast  body  of  water 
in  the  centre  of  this  figure,  descends  in  one  unbroken 
sheet  of  vivid  green,  and  contrasts  finely  with  the  awful 
perturbation  of  the  caldron.  But  towards  either  ex- 
tremity it  is  different.  The  water  there,  at  the  very 
commencement  of  its  descent,  is  shivered  into  particles 
inconceivably  minute,  and  assumes  a  thousand  beautiful 


ADVANCE  BEHIND  THE  CASCADE. 

forms  of  spires  and  pinnacles,  radiant  with  prismatic  co- 
lours. 

In  the  vast  receptacle  heneath,  the  water  is  so  com* 
minuted,  and  blended  with  air  carried  down  with  the 
cascade — probably  to  the  depth  of  many  hundred  feet— - 
that  none  but  substances  of  the  greatest  buoyancy  could 
possibly  float  on  it.  The  appearance  of  the  surface  is 
very  remarkable.  It  is  that  of  finely  triturated  silver,  in 
which,  though  the  particles  are  in  close  proximity,  there 
is  no  amalgamation.  The  whole  mass  is  in  convulsive 
and  furious  agitation,  and  continues  so  until,  having  re- 
ceded to  a  considerable  distance,  the  commotion  gradu- 
ally diminishes,  and  the  water  reassumes  its  ordinary? ap- 
pearance. 

It  is  possible  to  advance  to  a  considerable  distance  be-* 
hind  the  cascade,  and  I  determined  to  accomplish  the 
achievement.  Having  marshalled  my  energies  for  the 
undertaking,  I  continued  to  advance,  but  the  tempest  of 
dense  spray  became  suddenly  so  violent  as  apparently  to 
preclude  the  possibility  of  farther  progress.  I  was  dri- 
ven back  several  yards,  half  suffocated,  and  entirely 
blinded.  But  the  guide  encouraged  me  to  proceed,  andy 
accordingly,  Teucro  duce,  I  made  another  and  more  suc- 
cessful effort.  Having  penetrated  behind  the  Fall,  the 
only  footing  was  a  ledge  of  rock,  about  two  feet  broad, 
which  was  occasionally  narrowed  by  projections  in  the 
face  of  the  cliff.  But,  even  under  these  circumstances, 
the  undertaking  is  one  of  difficulty  rather  than  of  dan- 
ger. A  great  portion  of  the  air  carried  down  by  the  ca- 
taract is  immediately  disengaged,  and  the  consequence 
is,  that  an  intruder  has  to  encounter  a  strong  breeze 
which  blows  upwards  from  the  caldron,  and  sometimes 
even  dashes  him  with  unpleasant  violence  against  the 
rock  along  which  he  is  scrambling.  As  a  practical  illus- 
tration of  this,  our  conductor  plunged  fearlessly  down 
the  precipitous  rock  to  the  very  edge  of  the  gulf,  and 
was  immediately  blown  back,  with  little  effort  of  his- 
own,  to  our  narrow  pathway. 

At  length,  having  advanced  about  fifty  yards>  the 
guide  informed  me  that  farther  progress  was  impossible.- 
I  bad  certainly  no  objection  to  retrace  my  steps,  for  my 
lungs  played  with  extreme  difficulty,  and  the  hurricane 

47 


370  SOUND  OF  THE  CATARACT. 

of  wind  and  spray  seemed  to  threaten  utter  extinction  of 
sight  It  was  impossible,  however,  to  depart  without 
gazing  on  the  wonder  I  had  visited.  Far  overhead  was 
a  canopy  of  rock,  behind  the  perpendicular  cliff.  In 
front,  the  cascade — a  glorious  curtain — seemed  to  hang 
between  us  and  the  world.  One's  feelings  were  those 
of  a  prisoner.  But  never,  surely,  was  there  so  magnifi- 
cent a  dungeon! 

The  noise  of  the  great  cataract  is,  certainly,  far  less 
than  might  be  expected.  Even  at  its  very  brink,  con- 
versation may  be  carried  on  without  any  considerable 
elevation  of  the  voice.  The  sound  is  that  of  thunder  in 
its  greatest  intensity,  deep,  unbroken,  and  unchanging, 
There  is  no  hissing  nor  splashing;  nothing  which  breaks 
sharply  on  the  ear;  nothing  which  comes  in  any  degree 
into  collision  with  the  sounds  of  earth  or  air.  Nothing 
extrinsic  can  either  add  to,  or  diminish  its  volume.  It 
mingles  with  no  other  voice,  and  it  absorbs  none.  It 
Would  be  heard  amid  the  roaring  of  a  volcano,  and  yet 
does  not  drown  the  chirping  of  a  sparrow. 

Visitors  generally  wish,  however,  for  a  greater  crash 
on  the  tympanum,  for  something  to  stun  and  stupify, 
and  return  home  complaining  that  Niagara  is  less  noisy 
than  Trenton  or  the  Cohoes.  This  is  a  mistake.  The 
volume  of  sound  produced  by  the  Horse-shoe  Fall,  is 
far  greater  than  they  ever  heard  before,  or,  probably, 
will  ever  hear  again.  When  the  atmosphere  is  in  a  con- 
dition favourable  to  act  as  a  conductor  of  sound,  it  may 
be  heard  at  a  distance  of  fifteen,  and  even  twenty  miles. 
A  passenger  in  the  coach,  who  lived  six  miles  beyond 
Lewiston,  assured  me,  that,  in  particular  states  of  the 
barometer,  the  noise  was  there  distinctly  perceptible. 
But  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  great  body  of 
sound  is  generated  in  a  cavern  far  below  the  level  of 
the  surrounding  country,  and  fenced  in  on  three  sides  by 
walls  of  perpendicular  rock.  The  noise  vibrates  from 
side  to  side  of  this  sunless  cavity,  and  only  a  small  por- 
tion escapes  into  the  upper  air,  through  the  dense  canopy 
of  spray  and, vapour  by  which  it  is  overhung.  As  an 
experiment,  I  employed  a  man  to  fire  a  musket  below, 
while  I  stood  on  the  Table-rock.  The  report  was  cer- 
tainly audible,  but  scarcely  louder  than  that  of  a  pop-gun. 


THE  RAPIDS.  371 

Having  devoted  three  days  to  the  Horse-shoe,  I  rode 
up  the  river  to  survey  its  course  above  the  Falls.  Short- 
ly after  issuing  from  Lake  Erie,  the  Niagara  is  divided 
by  a  huge  island  about  seven  miles  in  length.  Lower  is 
another  island,  of  smaller  dimensions,  and  having  passed 
these,  the  river  is  about  two  miles  in  breadth,  and  tran- 
quil as  a  lake.  At  Chippewa,  about  three  miles  above 
the  Falls,  navigation  terminates.  A  short  distance  be- 
low, the  stream  evidently  begins  to  accelerate  its  mo- 
tion. There  are  no  waves,  however,  nor  is  there  any 
violent  agitation  of  the  current;  nothing,  in  short,  which 
seems  to  presage  the  scene  of  terrific  agitation  so  soon 
to  ensue.  Farther  down  is  Goat  Island,  which  divides 
the  river  into  two  branches,  and  forms  the  separation 
between  the  Falls.  It  is  at  the  higher  extremity  of  this 
island,  that  the  rapids  commence. 

The  grandeur  of  these  rapids  is  worthy  of  the  cata- 
racts in  which  they  terminate.  In  the  greater  branch, 
the  river  comes  foaming  down  with  prodigious  impetu- 
osity, and  presents  a  surface  of  agitated  billows,  dashing 
wildly  through  the  rocks  and  islands.  This  scene  of 
commotion  continues  till  within  about  thirty  yards  of  the 
Fall.  There  the  great  body  of  the  stream  resumes  its 
tranquillity,  and  in  solemn  grandeur  descends  into  the 
cloudy  and  unfathomable  abyss.  Never  was  there  a 
nobler  prelude  to  a  sublime  catastrophe! 

I,  at  length,  crossed  to  the  Amercian  side.  If  there 
were  no  Horse-shoe  Fall,  the  American  would  be  the 
wonder  of  the  world.  Seen  from  below,  it  is  very  no- 
ble. The  whole  body  of  water  is  at  once  shattered  into 
foam,  and  comes  down  in  a  thousand  feathery  and  fan- 
tastic shapes,  which,  in  a  bright  sunshine — as  I  beheld 
them — were  resplendently  beautiful.  But  the  form  of 
the  American  fall  is  unfortunate.  A  straight  line  is  ne- 
ver favourable  to  beauty,  and  the  cataract  descends,  not 
into  a  dark  abyss  of  convulsed  and  fathomless  waters, 
but  amid  fragments  of  rock,  from  which  it  again  rushes 
onward  to  the  main  bed  of  the  river.  In  short,  a  tra- 
veller from  the  Canadian  side  has  very  little  disposable 
admiration  to  lavish  on  this  splendid  object,  and  general- 
ly regards  it  with  a  cold  and  negligent  eye. 

In  order  to  reach  Goat  Island,  it  is  necessary  to  cross 


372  GOAT  ISLAND. 

two  bridges.  One  of  these,  certainly,  is  a  very  remark- 
able work.  It  leads  across  a  rapid  of  tremendous  velo- 
city, and  does  honour  to  the  engineer  by  whom  it  was 
constructed.  Goat  Island  is  covered  with  wood,  and  by 
the  public  spirit  of  its  proprietor,  General  Porter,  has 
been  intersected  with  walks,  trending  to  the  different 
points  from  which  the  finest  views  may  be  commanded. 
From  this  island,  a  bridge — or  rather  pier — has  been 
erected,  which  leads  the  spectator  to  a  point  where  the 
frail  structure  on  which  he  stands  is  directly  over  the 
great  abyss  of  the  Horse-shoe.  As  a  trial  of  nerve,  this 
is  very  well.  The  man,  assuredly,  has  strong  ones, 
who,  from  the  extremity  of  this  platform,  can  look  be- 
neath without  quivering  in  every  muscle.  The  prevail- 
ing feeling  is  that  of  horror,  and  a  spectator  partial  to 
inordinate  excitement,  may  here  get  enough  of  it.  But 
his  eye  can  rest  only  on  a  small  portion  of  the  Fall,  and 
the  position  is  decidedly  unfavourable  for  pictorial 
effect. 

The  bridge  is  but  a  fragile  structure,  and  vibrates  with 
every  motion,  especially  at  the  extremity,  where  it  is  ne- 
cessarily without  support.  I  stood  there  for  about  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour,  and  ehould  probably  have  remained  longer, 
but  the  near  approach  of  a  gentleman,  whose  dimensions 
indicated  a  weight  of  twenty  stone,  induced  me  to  re- 
trace my  steps  with  all  convenient  speed. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Falls,  one  can  think  of  no- 
thing else. '  They  affect  all  thoughts  and  impulses,  the 
waking  reverie,  and  the  midnight  dream.  Every  day  of 
my  stay  it  was  the  same.  Scarcely  was  breakfast  con- 
cluded, when,  putting  a  book  in  my  pocket,  I  sallied  down 
to  the  river,  to  lose  and  neglect  the  creeping  hours  of 
time,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Horse-shoe.  About  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  above,  the  stream  had  deposited  a  num- 
ber of  huge  trees,  and  I  employed  several  men  to  launch 
them  successively  into  the  stream,  while  I  stood  on  the 
extreme  point  of  the  Table  rock  to  observe  their  descent. 
One  by  one,  the  vast  masses — each  fit  for  the  mast  of 
"some  high  admiral" — came  floating  down,  sometimes 
engulfed  in  the  foaming  eddies,  sometimes  driven  with  fu- 
ry against  the  rocks,  and  then  rushing  onward  with  in? 
creased  velocity,  till,  reaching  the  smooth  water,  the  fo- 


THE  CALDRON.  373 

rest  giants  were  floated  slowly  onward  to  the  brink  of 
the  precipice,  when  they  were  seen  no  more. 

Nothing  which  enters  the  awful  caldron  of  the  Fall,  is 
ever  seen  to  emerge  from  it.  Of  three  gun-boats  which, 
some  years  after  the  termination  of  the  war,  were  sent 
over  the  Falls,  one  fragment  only,  about  a  foot  in  length, 
ever  was  discovered.  It  was  found  near  Kingston,  about 
a  month  after  the  descent  of  the  vessels.* 

*  Before  quitting  the  subject  of  the  Falls,  I  would  willingly  say  some- 
thing which  may  be  of  use  to  future  visiters.  It  is  usual  with  these  per- 
sons to  take  up  their  abode  at  Manchester,  and  give  the  first  day  or  two 
to  the  American  Fall,  and  Goat  Island.  This  strikes  me  as  bad  policy. 
The  American  Fall  is  just  fine  enough  to  impair  the  subsequent  impres- 
sion of  the  Horse-shoe.  By  adhering  to  this  routine,  visiters  come  to 
the  latter  with  an  appetite  partially  sated,  and  the  effect  of  the  first  burst 
of  this  sublime  object,  is  diminished.  I  would  advise  all  travellers, 
therefore,  to  proceed  first  to  Forsyth's,  but,  by  no  means,  to  indulge  in 
any  preliminary  view  of  the  Falls  from  the  windows  or  balcony.  Let 
the  visiter  repair  at  once  to  the  Table  rock,  and  there  receive  his  first 
impression  of  the  cataract.  I  would  recommend  him  next  to  proceed 
lower  down  on  the  Canadian  side,  where  there  are  many  points  from 
which  he  may  become  master  of  the  general  grouping  of  the  landscape. 
His  attention  may  then  be  directed  to  the  rapids;  and  to  see  them  to  ad- 
vantage, he  should  walk  as  far  as  Chippewa,  and  return — with  a  little 
scrambling  and  wading  it  is  very  possible — by  the  margin  of  the  river. 
On  the  day  following,  let  him  descend  to  the  bed  of  the  river,  and  gaze 
on  the  cataract  from  below.  Having  done  so,  he  may  cross  to  the  Ame- 
rican side,  and  from  mid-way  on  the  river,  he  will  see  the  only  view  of 
the  Falls  which  I  think  it  possible  for  the  painter  to  give  with  any  tiling 
like  adequate  effect.  Nothing,  in  truth,  can  be  more  splendid  than  the 
amphitheatre  of  cataracts  by  which  he  there  seems  almost  surrounded. 

With  regard  to  the  time  which  a  traveller  should  give  to  the  Falls,  it 
is  impossible  to  fix  on  any  definite  period.  The  imagination  requires 
some  time  to  expand  itself,  in  order  to  take  in  the  vastness  of  the  ob- 
jects. At  first,  the  agitation  of  nerve  is  too  great.  A  spectator  can  only 
gaze — he  cannot  contemplate.  For  some  days  the  impression  of  their 
glory  and  magnitude  will  increase;  and  so  long  as  this  is  the  case,  let 
him  remain.  His  time  could  not  be  better  spent.  He  is  hoarding  up 
a  store  of  sublime  memories  for  his  whole  future  life.  But  intimacy- 
such  is  our  nature — soon  degenerates  into  familiarity.  He  will,  at  length, 
begin  to  gaze  on  the  scene  around  him  with  a  listless  eye.  His  imagi- 
nation, in  short,  is  palled  with  excess  of  excitement  Let  him  watch 
for  this  crisis,  and  whenever  he  perceives  it,  pack  up  his  portmanteau 
and  depart  Niagara  can  do  nothing  more  for  him,  and  it  should  be  his 
object  to  bear  with  him  the  deepest  and  most  intense  impression  of  its 
glories.  Let  him  dream  of  these,  but  return  to  them  no  more.  A  se^ 
cond  visit  could  only  tend  to  unsettle  and  efface  the  impression  of  the 
first.  Were  I  within  a  mile  of  Niagara,  I  should  turn  my  steps  in  the 
opposite  direction.  Every  passing  year  diminishes  our  susceptibility, 
and  who  would  voluntarily  bring  to  such  objects  a  cold  heart,  and  faded 
imagination  ? 


374         CHARACTER  OF  SETTLERS. 

The  country  around  Niagara  is  picturesque,  and  in  a 
fine  state  of  cultivation.  English  habits  of  agriculture 
evidently  prevail.  There  is  a  greater  appearance  of 
neatness  than  I  have  seen  any  where  in  the  United 
States.  The  fences  are  in  excellent  order,  and  the  fields 
are  not  disfigured  by  stumps  of  decaying  timber.  The 
farms  are,  in  general,  large ;  many  contain  two  hundred 
acres  of  cleared  land,  and  their  owners  are  reputed  weal- 
thy. I  dined  with  one  of  these  gentlemen,  and  found 
comfort  combined  with  hospitality.  But  of  the  lower  or- 
ders in  the  Upper  Province,  it  is  impossible  to  speak  fa- 
vourably. They  have  all  the  disagreeable  qualities  of  the 
Americans,  with  none  of  that  energy,  and  spirit  of  enter- 
prise, which  often  convert  a  bad  man  into  a  useful  citi- 
zen. They  are  sluggish,  obstinate,  ignorant,  offensive  in 
manner,  and  depraved  in  morals,  without  loyalty,  and 
without  religion.  Of  course,  in  a  country  to  which  the 
tide  of  emigration  sets  in  so  strongly,  and  a  mass  of  im- 
ported principle  and  intelligence  is  annually  mingled  with 
that  of  native  growth,  such  observations  must  necessarily 
be  limited  in  their  application.  I  would  be  understood, 
therefore,  as  speaking  chiefly  of  the  older  settlers,  who 
consisted,  in  a  great  measure,  of  the  refuse  of  disbanded 
regiments,  and  of  adventurers,  who  brought  with  them 
neither  capital  nor  character.  Of  late  years,  Canada  has 
been  enriched  by  the  addition  of  a  number  of  naval  and 
military  officers,  whom  these  piping  times  of  peace  have 
left  without  professional  employment.  Men  of  property 
and  enterprise  have  likewise  embarked  large  sums  in  the 
improvement  of  this  fertile  region;  the  expenditure  of  the 
British  government  has  enriched  the  province  with  works 
of  great  splendour  and  utility;  industry  is  unfettered,  tax- 
ation almost  unknown ;  and  with  such  elements  of  pros- 
perity, Canada  may  now  safely  be  trusted  to  her  own  re- 
sources. 


DEPARTURE  FROM  NIAGARA.  375 

CHAPTER  XX. 

JOURNEY  TO  QUEBEC. 

HAVING  passed  a  week  at  Niagara,  and  seen  the  Falls 
under  every  aspect,  in  cloud  and  sunshine,  in  storm  and 
calm,  by  star  and  moonlight,  I  took  my  departure.  About 
four  miles  below  is  a  very  remarkable  whirlpool,  which  I 
visited,  on  my  way  to  Fort  George.  This  whirpool  is  caused 
by  the  protrusion  of  a  bed  of  rock  across  the  rectilinear 
course  of  the  river.  The  stream  comes  down  with  great  im- 
petuosity, and,  when  driven  back  by  this  obstacle,  the  cur- 
rent whirls  round  the  basin  with  prodigious  violence,  and 
at  length  escapes  in  a  direction  nearly  at  right  angles 
with  its  former  course.  The  water  has  the  appearance 
of  molten  lead,  and  the  people  in  the  neighbourhood  de- 
clare that  from  the  eddies  of  this  vortex  nothing  living 
can  escape.  Even  boats  have  been  absorbed  by  them, 
and,  when  this  happens,  there  is  no  possibility  of  help  from 
the  shore.  The  boat  upsets,  and  the  men  are  drowned; 
or,  if  not,  the  boat  is  kept  whirling  round  with  the  stream 
for  perhaps  a  fortnight  together,  and  the  men  are  starved. 
Such  were  stated  to  be  the  horns  of  the  dilemma. 

Fort  George  is  a  military  station  at  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  and  the  works,  originally  built  of  turf,  have  been 
suffered  to  go  to  decay.  It  is  better  it  should  be  so,  for 
it  would  be  easy  at  any  time  to  throw  up  others,  and  all 
immediate  expense  is  avoided.  On  the  opposite  side  is 
the  American  Fort  Niagara,  which,  though  built  of  stone, 
does  not  present, an  aspect  much  more  formidable  than 
its  British  rival.  The  latter  was  garrisoned  by  a  party 
of  the  79th  regiment,  and  I  own  the  pleasure  with  which 
I  saw,  in  this  remote  district,  our  national  flag  and  uni- 
form was  very  great.  I  no  longer  felt  as  a  stranger  in 
the  land,  and  caught  myself  almost  unconsciously  doing, 
the  honours  to  a  very  pleasant  party  of  Americans, 
whom  I  accompanied  in  a  ramble  through  the  ruinous 
entrenchments  and  dismantled  works. 

A  steam-boat  starts  daily  from  Fort  George,  for  York, 
the  capital  of  Upper  Canada.  I  certainly  never  made  a 


376  VOYAGE  TO  YORK, 

trip  in  a  more  comfortable  vessel.  It  was  commanded  by 
a  half-pay  officer  of  the  navy,  and  in  point  of  cleanliness 
and  nicety  of  arrangement,  formed  a  strong  contrast  to 
the  larger  and  more  splendid  vessels  of  the  United  States. 
Our  steamer  started  about  twelve  o'clock.  In  five  hours 
we  had  crossed  the  extremity  of  Lake  Ontario,  and  were 
safely  landed  in  York.  In  a  body  of  water  so  extensive, 
one  does  not  see  a  great  deal  of  the  scenery  on  shore.- 
I  saw  enough,  however,  to  convince  me  that  the  shores 
of  Ontario  are  flat  and  devoid  of  beauty. 

York  has  few  objects  to  interest  a  traveller.  It  stands 
in  a  level  and  marshy  country,  and  contains  about  five 
thousand  inhabitants.  It  was  once— I  believe,  twice — 
taken  by  the  Americans  during  the  war,  and  is,  in  truth, 
a  place  scarcely  capable  of  defence.  There  is  no  com- 
manding point  for  the  erection  of  a  fort  or  battery;  and 
the  only  one  at  present  existing,  could  afford  very  inade- 
quate protection  in  case  of  attack.  The  place,  however,, 
is  prosperous,  and  the  price  of  building  ground  struck 
me  as  very  high.  The  Government  house  is  of  wood — 
rather  a  singular  circumstance,  since  brick  is  a  common- 
building  material  in  the  town. 

There  is  a  college  at  York,  which  seems  to  be  con- 
ducted on  judicious  principles.  The  public  buildings- 
are  just  what  they  ought  to  be,  plain  and  substantial. 
In  passing  through  the  streets,  I  was  rather  surprised  to 
observe  an  affiche  intimating  that  ice-creams  were  to  be 
had  within.  The  weather  being  hot,  I  entered,  and 
found  the  master  of  the  establishment  to  be  an  Italian. 
I  never  eat  better  ice  at  Grange's. 

Having  passed  a  day  at  York,  I  sailed  in  a  very  noble 
steamer,  called  the  Great  Britain,  to  Prescott,  at  the 
northern  extremity  of  the  lake.  Our  day's  voyage  pre- 
sented nothing  remarkable,  but  at  night  it  came  on  to 
blow  very  hard,  and  our  vessel,  though  one  of  the  largest 
class,  kept  pitching  very  disagreeably.  In  the  morning 
no  land  was  visible,  the  waves  were  very  high,  and  On- 
tario— not  unsuccessfully— seemed  to  ape  the  Atlantic. 
Towards  the  middle  of  the  lake  the  water  is  of  a  deep 
blue  colour. 

We  stopped  for  an  hour  at  Kingston,  a  place  of  con- 
siderable population,  and  certainly  far  better  adapted 


LAKE  OF  THE  THOUSAND  ISLES.  377 

than  York  to  become  the  capital  of  the  province.  Its 
situation  is  so  strong,  as  to  afford  complete  security  from 
a  coup  de  main,  and  there  is  a  fort  which  completely 
commands  both  town  and  harbour.  In  the  dock-yard, 
there  are  two  seventy-fours  on  the  stocks,  the  building 
of  which  was  arrested  by  the  peace. 

During  the  war,  Kingston,  from  its  fine  harbour,  and 
other  natural  advantages,  was  a  place  of  much  conse- 
quence. Sackett's  harbour,  the  rival  American  port,  is 
altogether  inferior.  The  manner  in  which  the  lake  war- 
fare was  conducted,  affords  a  fine  specimen  of  the  folly 
and  ignorance  of  a  British  Government.  Frigates  were 
sent  out  in  frame  to  a  country  covered  with  the  finest 
timber,  and  the  mere  expense  of  conveying  these  from 
Montreal  to  Kingston,  was  far  greater  than  similar  ves- 
sels could  have  been  built  for  on  the  spot.  The  Navy 
Board  were  particularly  careful  that  the  armaments 
should  not  suffer  from  a  deficiency  of  water-casks,  though 
it  was  only  necessary  to  drop  a  bucket  to  procure  water 
of  the  finest  quality  from  the  lake;  and,  to  crown  the  ab- 
surdity, an  apparatus  for  distilling  sea  water  was  supplied 
for  each  vessel ! 

Having  passed  Kingston,  we  were  fairly  in  the  St 
Lawrence,  and  the  scenery  became  very  striking.  To- 
wards evening,  we  passed  through  that  portion  of  the 
river  called  the  Lake  of  the  Thousand  Isles.  Nothing 
could  be  more  beautiful,  when  seen  in  the  light  of  a  bril- 
liant sunset.  The  islands  are  of  all  sizes — some  only  a 
few  yards  in  extent,  others  upwards  of  a  mile.  One 
could  fancy  many  of  them  to  be — what  they  are  not — 
the  retreat  of  innocence  and  peace.  Their  number  has 
never  been  correctly  ascertained,  but  is  generally  esti- 
mated to  be  near  two  thousand. 

The  voyage  terminated  at  a  miserable  village  called 
Prescott,  where  we  supped,  slept,  and  breakfasted.  I 
had  been  fortunate  in  meeting  a  detachment  of  the  71st 
regiment  on  board  the  Great  Britain,  who  were  about 
to  descend  the  St.  Lawrence  in  batteaux  to  Montreal. 
The  officers  obligingly  invited  me  to  join  their  party—- 
an arrangement  too  agreeable  to  be  declined.  The  de- 
tachment consisted  of  about  fifty  men  and  three  officers, 
and  four  boats  were  provided  for  their  accommodation. 

48 


378  THE  RAPIDS. 

One  of  these,  intended  for  the  officers,  was  fitted  up 
with  an  awning,  and  by  a  judicious  arrangement  of  the 
cloaks  and  portmanteaus,  the  whole  party  were  com- 
fortably provided  with  seats. 

About  ten  o'clock  we  started.  The  boatmen  were  all 
natives  of  the  Lower  province,  and  spoke  English  with 
difficulty.  A  merrier  set  of  beings  it  is  scarcely  possi- 
ble to  imagine.  The  buoyancy  of  their  spirits  was  con- 
tinually finding  vent  in  song  or  laughter,  unless  when 
we  approached  a  rapid,  or  our  commander,  tired  of  the 
incessant  noise,  thought  proper  to  enjoin  silence. 

The  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence  rank  in  the  first  or- 
der of  sublimities.  They  are  caused  by  a  great  contrac- 
tion and  sudden  descent  in  the  bed  of  the  river,  and  are 
generally  accompanied  by  numerous  islands  and  rocks  in 
the  middle  of  the  stream.  The  river,  thus  pent  up  and 
obstructed,  is  thrown  into  violent  perturbation,  and 
rushes  onward  with  tremendous  fury,  roaring,  dashing, 
and  foaming  in  a  manner  truly  formidable  to  weak 
nerves.  When  one  looks  at  the  turbulence  of  the  wa- 
ters, and  the  terrific  eddies  and  whirlpools  into  which 
they  are  thrown  by  the  conflict  of  opposing  currents,  it 
at  first  seems  impossible  that  a  boat  can  escape  being 
dashed  to  pieces,  and,  in  truth,  it  is  only  by  the  most 
skilful  pilotage  that  such  a  consummation  is  avoided. 
The  life  or  death  of  a  party  is  often  decided  by  a  single 
touch  of  the  helm,  and  it  is  occasionally  necessary  to 
pass  even  within  a  yard  or  two  of  a  spot  where  keel 
never  crossed  without  instant  destruction. 

On  approaching  any  formidable  rapid,  all  is  silent  on 
board.  The  conductor  is  at  the  helm,  and  each  of  the 
crew  at  his  post.  All  eyes  are  steadfastly  fixed  on 
the  countenance  of  the  helmsman,  whose  commands  sel- 
dom require  to  be  expressed  in  words.  Every  look  is  un- 
derstood and  obeyed,  with  the  promptitude  of  men  who 
know  their  peril.  Accidents  rarely  occur,  and,  in  truth, 
the  danger  is  just  imminent  enough  to  create  a  pleasant 
degree  of  excitement  in  the  voyager.  He  knows  that  he 
is  not  safe,  and  that  his  chances  of  life  depend  on  the 
skill  and  steadiness  of  the  boatmen.  The  probability  of 
safety,  however,  greatly  preponderates;  and  the  risk  of 
being  dashed  to  mummy  on  the  rocks,  though  sufficiently 


THE  RAPIDS.  379 

strong  to  excite  his  imagination,  wants  power  to  per- 
turb it. 

A  few  hours  after  leaving  Prescott,  we  entered  the 
first  rapid.  It  is  called  the  Long  Sault,  and  extends  for 
about  nine  miles.  We  did  the  whole  distance  in  little 
more  than  twenty  minutes,  and  at  some  places  our  mo- 
tion seemed  rapid  as  that  of  a  bird.  One  portion  of  the 
rapid  called  Big  Pitch,  is  particularly  formidable.  The 
river  is  there  divided  by  an  island  into  two  arms  of  near- 
ly equal  dimensions,  and  the  descent  must  be  very  great, 
for  the  stream  dashes  through  the  rocks  with  fearful  vio- 
lence, and  sends  up  pyramids  of  spray. 

The  chief  point  of  danger,  however,  is  where  the 
branches,  having  passed  the  island,  are  again  united. 
Men  may  talk  of  the  charge  of  hostile  armies,  and  no 
doubt  a  poet  may  spin  very  pretty,  and  even  sublime 
verses  out  of  such  matter.  But  the  charge  of  hostile 
torrents  is  altogether  a  more  magnificent  affair;  and  who 
shall  describe  the  "  dreadful  revelry  "  of  their  conflict? 
At  the  Big  Pitch,  the  two  arms  of  the  St.  Lawrence  rush 
against  each  other  with  a  thundering  roar,  and  are 
shivered  into  spray  by  the  violence  of  the  concussion. 
The  whole  surface  of  the  river  boils  like  a  caldron,  and 
the  water  on  either  side  is  driven  back  from  the  centre  to 
the  margin  in  a  multitude  of  eddies  and  whirlpools.  It 
is  only  by  slow  degrees  that  the  commotion  ceases, 
and  the  ordinary  aspect  of  the  river  is  restored. 

In  passing  the  scene  of  this  alarming  struggle,  the  boat 
for  about  a  minute  reeled  and  staggered  very  disagreea- 
bly, and  two  or  three  waves  burst  over  us.  Before  we 
had  time,  however,  to  clear  the  water  from  our  eyes,  the 
Big  Pitch  was  past,  and  we  were  borne  forward  on  water 
comparatively  smooth. 

We  slept  at  a  poor  village,  the  name  of  which  I  forget. 
Our  boatmen,  who  had  all  day  been  pulling  at  the  oars, 
like  true  Canadians,  instead  of  going  to  bed,  got  up  a 
dance  with  the  village  girls,  and  the  ball  was  only  stopped 
by  the  re-embarkation  of  the  party  on  the  following 
morning.  The  whole  crew  were  drunk,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  conductor,  but  the  appearance  of  the  first 
rapid  sobered  them  in  an  instant. 

Our  course  now  lay  through  Lake  St.  Francis.    There 


880  ST.  LAWRENCE  AND  MISSISSIPPI. 

was  not  a  breath  of  wind,  and  the  assistance  received 
from  the  current  was  very  trifling.  The  lake  is  nearly 
thirty  miles  long,  and  about  ten  or  twelve  in  breadth. 
At  its  lower  extremity  is  the  village  of  St.  Regis,  where 
the  boundary  line  of  the  United  States  leaving  the  St. 
Lawrence,  the  river  becomes  exclusively  Canadian. 

We  breakfasted  at  Coteau  du  Lac,  and  shot  through 
another  rapid  with  the  speed  of  an  arrow.  In  order  to 
facilitate  the  communication  between  the  provinces, 
canals  have  been  made,  by  which  these  rapids  may  be 
avoided.  The  shores  of  the  St.  Lawrence  are  chequered 
with  patches  of  cultivation,  but  not  so  much  so  as  mate- 
rially to  affect  the  general  character  of  the  scenery. 
Among  rivers  of  first-rate  magnitude,  I  imagine  the  palm 
of  beauty  must  be  yielded  to  the  St.  Lawrence.  In  its 
aspect  there  is  no  dulness,  no  monotony.  It  is  continu- 
ally changing  from  the  rapid  to  the  lake,  from  excessive 
velocity  of  current  to  still  and  tranquil  water,  on  which, 
but  for  sail  and  oar,  the  motion  of  the  boat  would  be  im- 
perceptible. 

Perhaps,  no  two  rivers  afford  a  stronger  contrast  than 
the  Mississippi  and  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  scenery  of 
the  former  is  flat  and  unchanging;  of  the  latter,  infinitely 
diversified.  The  water  of  the  Mississippi  is  ever  dark 
and  turbid;  the  St.  Lawrence  is  beautifully  clear.  The 
Mississippi  traverses  a  continent,  and  enlarges  gradu- 
ally from  a  mountain  rivulet  into  a  mighty  river.  The 
St.  Lawrence  is  an  Adam  at  its  birth.  It  knows  no 
childhood,  and  attains  at  once  to  maturity.  The  current 
of  the  Mississippi  is  smooth  and  equable;  that  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  rapid  and  impetuous.  The  volume  of  the 
Mississippi  is  continually  influenced  by  the  vicissitudes 
of  season;  it  annually  overflows  its  banks,  and  spreads  a 
deluge  over  the  surrounding  region.  The  St.  Lawrence 
is  the  same  at  all  seasons;  rains  neither  augment  its  vo- 
lume, nor  do  droughts  perceptibly  diminish  it.  The 
channel  of  the  St.  Lawrence  leads  through  a  succession 
of  lakes.  There  are  no  lakes  connected  with  the  Missis- 
sippi. The  St.  Lawrence,  on  approaching  the  termina- 
tion of  its  course,  gradually  expands  into  a  noble  bay; 
and  amid  a  region  bounded  by  forest  and  mountain, 
mingles  almost  imperceptibly  with  the  ocean.  The 


MONTREAL.  381 

Mississippi  pours  its  flood  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  by  a 
number  of  branches  flowing  through  a  delta  formed  by 
the  diluvium  of  its  own  waters.* 

Nor  is  their  effect  on  the  spectator  less  different.  The 
one  is  grand  and  beautiful;  the  other  awful  and  sublime. 
The  St.  Lawrence  delights  the  imagination;  the  Missis- 
sippi overwhelms  it. 

I  shall  not  linger  on  the  voyage.  We  passed  the  Ce- 
dar rapids  and  the  Cascades,  both  of  which  are  consi- 
dered more  dangerous  than  the  Long  Sault.  But  their 
character  is  the  same,  and  I  shall  spare  the  reader  the 
trouble  of  perusing  certain  long  descriptions  which  I  find 
in  my  journal.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  at  night-fall  our 
voyage  terminated  at  La  Chine,  a  village  nine  miles 
from  Montreal. 

The  inn  was  tolerable,  but  it  must  be  confessed  that 
the  Canadian  hotels  are  inferior  to  those  of  the  United 
States,  while  the  charges  are  considerably  higher.  There 
is  no  arrangement,  no  zeal  to  oblige,  and  the  amount  of 
civility  at  the  disposal  of  a  traveller  is  very  limited.  In 
the  United  States,  an  Englishman  becomes  accustomed 
to  indifference,  and  has  rarely  to  encounter  insolence. 
In  a  country  like  Canada,  subject  to  the  British  crown, 
he  is  apt  to  expect  more,  and  the  chances  are  that  he 
will  find  less. 

On  the  day  following,  I  drove  to  Montreal;  and  was  cer- 
tainly agreeably  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  the  city. 
It  stands  on  an  island,  about  thirty  miles  long,  and  at  a 
short  distance  from  the  mountain  whose  name  it  bears.  The 
houses  are  entirely  constructed  of  stone;  and  the  neat- 
ness of  the  buildings,  and  the  general  air  of  solidity  and 
compactness,  have  a  very  pleasing  effect  to  afi  eye  ac- 
customed to  the  trashy  clap-board  edifices  of  an  Ameri- 
can town.  It  is  the  fashion  in  Montreal  to  cover  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  with  tin,  so  that  in  looking  down  on 
it  from  the  neighbouring  heights,  the  city  glitters  with 
a  mirror-like  brightness.  In  the  higher  part  of  the  town 
are  some  handsome  streets,  and  the  public  buildings  are 
in  the  best  taste— plain,  substantial,  and  without  preten- 

*  Those  who  wish  to  see  this  parallel  followed  out  with  greater  mi- 
nuteness, I  beg  to  refer  to  Mr.  Stuart's  Travels  in  the  United  States, 
and  those  of  Mr.  Hodgson. 


382  CONVENT. 

sion  of  any  sort.  The  suburbs  are  embellished  by  a 
number  of  tasteful  residences,  which  are  often  surround- 
ed by  pleasure-grounds  of  considerable  beauty.  The  in- 
habitants are  hospitable;  and  the  establishments  of  the 
more  wealthy  combine  elegance  with  comfort. 

The  population  of  Montreal  is  about  30,000.  The 
great  majority  of  the  mercantile  class  are  English;  but 
the  lower  orders,  both  in  language  and  appearance,  de- 
cidedly French.  Their  dress  is  at  once  primitive  and 
peculiar.  Like  the  Spaniards,  they  wear  a  sash  of  co- 
loured worsted  round  the  waist,  a  jacket,  generally  of 
blue  or  brown,  and  shoes  fashioned  after  the  Indian  mo- 
cassin. The  natives  of  the  Montreal  and  Quebec  dis- 
tricts are  distinguished  by  the  colour  of  their  caps. 
The  former  wear  the  bonnet  bleu;  the  latter,  the  bonnet 
rouge. 

The  prevailing  religion  is  the  Catholic;  and  the  Cathe- 
dral does  honour  to  the  taste  and  spirit  of  the  inhabitants. 
It  is  built  of  a  bluish  limestone,  and  of  a  fabric  so  sub- 
stantial, that  it  bids  fair  to  outlast  every  church  now  ex- 
tant in  the  United  States.  The  style  of  architecture  is 
Gothic;  and  the  only  defects  which  struck  me,  are  a  bar- 
renness of  ornament, — attributable,  I  imagine,  to  a  defi- 
ciency of  funds, — and  a  glare  of  light,  which  injures  the 
effect  of  the  interior. 

There  are  several  convents  in  Montreal,  one  of  which 
I  visited,  in  company  with  an  eminent  merchant  of  the 
city.  The  building  is  commodious  and  extensive,  and 
the  establishment  consists  of  a  mere  superieure,  and 
twenty-four  nuns.  Its  funds,  which  are  considerable,  are 
devoted  to  purposes  of  charity;  and  I  saw  a  little  troop  of 
orphans,  Vhom  they  support  and  educate.  There  is, 
likewise,  an  hospital  for  the  insane  and  incurable,  which 
I  declined  visiting.  I  saw  several  of  the  sisters, — pale, 
unearthly  looking  beings, — who,  accustomed  to  the  mi- 
nistrations of  the  sick-bed,  flit  about  with  noiseless  steps, 
and  speak  in  a  low  and  subdued  tone.  Their  garb  is  pe- 
culiar. It  consists  of  a  gown  of  light  drab,  plain  muslin 
cap,  black  hood,  a  sort  of  tippet  of  white  linen,  and  the 
usual  adjuncts  of  rosary  and  crucifix. 

The  interest  excited  by  this  pious  and  benevolent  in- 
stitution was  certainly  not  diminished  by  the  communi- 


QUEBEC.  383 

cations  of  my  companion.  "  It  is  impossible,"  he  said, 
"  that  I  can  look  on  this  establishment,  without  feelings 
of  the  deepest  gratitude.  Thirty-five  years  ago,  I  came 
to  this  city  a  penniless  and  friendless  boy;  and  I  had  not 
one  friend  or  connexion  in  the  colony  from  whom  I 
might  expect  kindness.  Shortly  after  my  arrival,  I  fell 
sick.  I  could  not  work,  and  was  utterly  destitute  of  the 
means  of  subsistence.  In  this  situation,  these  charitable 
nuns  received  me  into  this  house,  nursed  me  with  ten- 
derness, through  a  long  and  grievous  illness,  and  supplied 
me  with  the  means  of  support,  until,  by  my  own  labour,  I 
was  enabled  to  rid  them  of  the  burden.  By  God's  pro- 
vidence, I  have  prospered  in  the  world.  I  am  now  rich, 
but  never  do  I  pass  the  gates  of  this  institution  without 
a  silent  blessing  on  its  humble  and  pious  inmates." 

Lord  and  Lady  Aylmer  were  in  Montreal,  and  their 
presence  rendered  it  at  once  the  scene  of  gaiety  and  hos- 
pitality. I  passed  a  week  there,  with  great  pleasure, 
and  then  embarked  in  one  of  those  magnificent  steamers 
which  ply  on  the  St.  Lawrence  for  Quebec.  The  dis- 
tance between  the  cities  is  a  hundred  and  eighty  miles, 
which  is  generally  accomplished  in  about  twenty  hours. 

As  we  approached  Quebec,  the  scenery  became  more 
wild  and  mountainous.  Cultivation  rarely  extends  be- 
yond a  mile  or  two  from  the  river,  and  agriculture  ap*- 
pears  to  be  conducted  by  the  Canadians  of  the  Lower 
Province  on  the  worst  principles.  To  me,  they  ap- 
peared a  light-hearted  and  amiable  people,  who  brave 
the  chances  of  life,  with  apathy  to  its  sufferings,  and  a 
keen  sensation  of  its  enjoyments.  No  contrast  in  human 
character  can  be  greater  than  that  exhibited  by  the  in- 
habitants of  Lower  Canada  and  the  United  States.  The 
one,  averse  from  all  innovation,  content  to  live  as  his 
fathers  have  done  before  him,  sluggish,  inert,  and  animated 
by  strong  local  attachment  to  the  spot  of  his  nativity. 
The  other,  active  and  speculating,  never  satisfied  with 
his  present  condition,  emigrating  wherever  interest  may 
direct,  and  influenced  in  every  circumstance  by  the  great 
principle  of  turning  the  penny.  The  Canadian  is  un- 
doubtedly the  more  interesting;  but,  on  the  standard  of 
utility,  I  fear  Jean  Baptiste  must  yield  the  pas  to  Jona- 
than. 


384  THE  LOWER  TOWN. 

Quebec  bears  on  its  front  the  impress  of  nobility.  By 
the  most  obtuse  traveller,  it  cannot  be  mistaken  for  u 
mere  common-place  and  vulgar  city.  It  towers  with  an 
air  of  pride  and  of  menace — the  menace  not  of  a  bully,  but 
of  an  armed  Paladin  prepared  for  battle.  No  city  in  the 
world  stands  amid  nobler  scenery.  The  heights  bristling 
•with  works;  the  splendid  and  impregnable  citadel  frown- 
ing on  Cape  Diamond;  the  river  emerging  in  the  distance 
from  the  dark  pine  forest,  with  its  broad  expanse  covered 
with  shipping;  the  Isle  of  Orleans  reposing  in  tranquil 
beauty  amid  its  waters;  and  the  colossal  ranges  of  moun- 
tains which  close  the  prospect; — constitute  an  assem- 
blage of  splendid  features,  which  may  be  equalled,  but 
can  scarcely  be  surpassed. 

Till  I  landed  from  the  steam-boat,  Quebec  was  to  me 
a  mere  abstraction,  which  it  pleased  my  imagination  to 
invest  with  attributes  of  grandeur.  But  the  first  aspect 
of  the  lower  town  contributed  to  dissipate  the  charm.  It 
extends  over  a  narrow  ledge  at  the  foot  of  the  precipice. 
The  streets  are  dirty  and  narrow — the  trottoirs  so  much 
so,  that  two  people  can  scarcely  pass  without  jostling. 
It  is  in  this  quarter  that  merchants  most  do  congregate; 
and  here  are  the  exchange,  the  custom-house,  the  banks, 
and  all  the  filth  and  circumstance  of  inglorious  com- 
merce. 

The  pomp  of  war  is  displayed  in  a  loftier  region,  which 
is  approached  by  a  very  steep  street  leading  upward 
through  a  natural  cleft  in  the  brow  of  the  mountain.  In 
the  higher  town  are  the  court  and  the  camp,  the  Castle  of 
St.  Louis  on  its  lofty  pedestal  of  rock,  with  a  formidable 
array  of  towering  ramparts  for  their  defence.  In  this 
quarter  no  sign  of  traffic  is  discernible,  and  the  sound  of 
military  music,  the  number  of  soldiers  in  the  streets,  the 
sentinels  in  their  solitary  walk  along  the  ramparts,  and  the 
vociferous  revelry  of  young  and  idle  officers,  strike  with 
pleasing  novelty  on  the  senses  of  a  traveller  from  the 
United  States. 

The  fortnight  I  passed  at  Quebec  is  associated  with 
pleasant  memories.  By  the  officers  of  the  32d  regiment 
i  was  admitted  an  honorary  member  qf  their  mess;  and 
I  request  these  gentlemen  to  accept  my  thanks  for  the 
many  agreeable  hours  spent  in  their  society.  I  enjoyed 


FALLS  OF  MONTMORENCI.  385 

the  pleasure,  too,  of  encountering  an  old  military  friend, 
with  whom  1  had  long  served  in  the  same  corps.  More 
recently,  we  had  travelled  together  on  the  continent  of 
Europe,  and  now,  by  one  of  those  unanticipated  chances 
which  occasionally  brighten  life,  we  were  again  thrown 
together,  with  what  feelings  it  is  unnecessary  to  de- 
scribe. 

At  Montreal,  Lord  Aylmer  had  obligingly  furnished  me 
with  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Colonel  Cockburn,  the 
commandant  of  artillery;  and  the  advantages  I  derived 
from  it  were  very  great.  Colonel  Cockburn  is  an  ac- 
complished artist,  with  a  delicate  perception,  and  fine  feel- 
ing of  the  beauties  of  nature;  and  it  was  under  his  gui- 
dance, and  generally  in  his  company,  that  I  visited  the 
surrounding  scenery. 

My  first  excursion  was  to  the  falls  of  Montmorenci, 
about  eight  miles  from  the  city.  On  emerging  from  the 
city  gate,  we  crossed  the  St.  Charles,  and  then  pursued 
our  course  through  a  pleasant  and  well-cultivated  coun- 
try, interspersed  with  villages.  It  was  a  holyday  of  some 
sort,  and  the  inhabitants  were  all  abroad  clad  in  their  best, 
and  gay  as  the  more  fortunate  inhabitants  of  less  wintry 
regions.  The  heights  of  Montmorenci  are  interesting  as 
having  been  the  scene  of  Wolfe's  first  attack  on  Mont- 
calm.  It  was  unsuccessful.  The  French  occupied  an 
intrenched  position  on  the  summit,  from  which  it  was 
found  impossible  to  dislodge  them.  About  six  hundred  of 
Wolfe's  army  fell  in  the  attempt. 

The  falls  are  very  fine,  but  have,  unfortunately,  been 
disfigured  by  the  erection  of  a  mill  on  the  very  summit 
of  the  precipice ;  but  the  view  from  a  platform  adjoining 
this  building  is  magnificent.  The  entire  height  of  the 
fall  is  two  hundred  and  forty  feet,  and  though  the  body 
of  water  is — in  summer,  at  least — of  no  great  magnitude,  it 
thunders  down  the  steep  with  astonishing  majesty,  and 
makes  glorious  turmoil  in  a  huge  basin  surrounded  on 
three  sides  by  precipitous  cliffs.  About  a  mile  above  is  a 
geological  curiosity  called  "  the  natural  steps,"  which  ap- 
pear to  have  been  worn  in  the  rock-  by  the  attrition  of 
the  stream.  These  are  so  regular  as  to  make  it  dif- 
ficult to  believe  that  art  has  had  no  share  in  their  for- 
mation. 

49 


380        MONUMENT  TO  WOLFE  AND  MONTCALM. 

Close  to  the  city  are  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  Traces 
of  field  works  are  yet  visible,  and  an  oval  block  of  granite 
marks  the  spot  on  which  Wolfe  expired  About  a  mile 
higher  is  Wolfe's  Cove,  where  he  landed  during  the  night, 
and  the  fearful  cliff  up  which  he  led  his  followers  to  vic- 
tory. A  redoubt  on  the  summit  was  carried  by  escalade, 
and  by  day-dawn  the  army  was  formed  in  order  of  bat- 
tle on  the  heights.  Montcalm  instantly  quitted  his  in- 
trenchments  at  Beaufort  to  meet  him.  By  ten  o'clock 
the  armies  were  engaged,  and  in  two  hours  the  power  of 
France  on  the  American  continent  was  annihilated. 

Wolfe  died  young,  and  his  name  bears  something  of  a 
melancholy  charm  to  the  ear  of  every  Englishman.  Yet 
there  appear  no  grounds  for  attributing^ to  him  the  qua- 
lities of  a  great  general.  His  first  attempt  was  a  failure, 
and  the  second  was  successful  only  from  the  blunder  of 
his  opponent.  In  accepting  battle,  Montcalm  gave  up 
all  his  advantages.  Had  he  retired  into  the  city,  Quebec 
never  could  have  been  taken.  Winter  was  rapidly  ap- 
proaching, (the  hattle  took  place  on  the  12th  of  Sep- 
tember,) and  siege  was  impossible. 

A  monument  has  been  erected  to  the  memory  of  these 
brave  men.  It  is  an  obelisk  copied  from  some  of  those 
in  Rome,  and  bears  two  Latin  inscriptions,  which  to  nine- 
ty-nine out  of  every  hundred  who  look  on  it  are  unintelli- 
gible. There  is  nonsense  and  pedantry  in  this.  The  in- 
scriptions should  have  been  in  French  and  English. 

The  citadel  has  been  strengthened  and  rebuilt  at  an 
enormous  expense.  It  perfectly  commands  both  the  city 
and  the  river,  and  is  so  strong,  that  in  all  human  proba- 
bility it  will  ever  remain  a  virgin  fortress.  At  all  events, 
those  who  have  skill,  courage,  and  energy  to  wrest  it  from 
the  grasp  of  British  soldiers,  will  deserve  to  keep  it. 
Assuredly  their  national  annals  will  record  no  more  bril- 
liant achievement. 

The  chateau  of  St.  Louis  is  now  converted  into  the  re- 
sidence of  the  Governor.  It  stands  on  the  verge  of  a 
precipitous  rock,  down  which  it  seems  in  danger  of  tum- 
bling. In  point  of  architecture  it  has  nothing  to  boast. 
There  is  a  total  want  of  massiveness  and  grandeur. 

The  other  public  buildings  are  principally  religious. 
The  convents,  which  are  numerous,  I  did  not  visit.  The 


LORETTO.  387 

cathedral  is  a  massive  stone  edifice,  without  ornament  of 
any  sort.  The  walls  in  the  interior  display  a  good  many 
pictures,  which  I  had  not  patience  to  examine.  The  grand 
altar  is  as  magnificent  as  waxen  virgins  and  gilt  angels 
can  make  it. 

New  York  and  the  Canadas  are  the  chosen  regions  of 
waterfalls.  Their  opulence  in  this  noble  feature  is  un- 
rivalled. I  had  already  seen  many,  but  there  were  still 
many  to  be  seen.  I  confess  my  appetite  for  cataracts 
had  become  rather  squeamish,  yet  I  walked  nine  miles 
under  a  burning  sun  to  see  that  of  the  Chaudiere.  It  is 
still  imbosomed  in  the  forest,  whose  echoes  for  many 
thousand  years  it  has  awakened.  The  wild  commotion 
of  the  river  contrasts  finely  with  the  death-like  quietude 
of  all  other  objects.  It  was  June,  yet  there  were  no  birds 
pouring  melody  through  these  dismal  wood-lands.  How 
different  are  the  Canadian  forests  from  the  woods  of  Old 
England !  Living  nature  was  silent ;  inanimate  spoke  only 
in  that  voice 

"which  seemed  to  him 

Who  dwelt  in  Patmos,  for  his  Saviour's  sake, 
The  crowd  of  many  waters." 

The  Chaudiere  is  about  the  size  of  the  Tweed.  The 
perpendicular  height  of  the  fall  is  upwards  of  a  hundred 
feet.  The  finest  view  is  from  a  ledge  of  rock  projecting 
into  the  river  about  fifty  yards  below.  The  water  in  the 
basin,  or,  as  it  is  called,  the  Pot,  boils  as  water  never  did 
in  pot  before.  It  then  dashes  down  a  succession  of  ra- 
pids, and  continues  to  fume,  and  toss,  and  tumble,  until 
finally  swallowed  up  by  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  sight  is 
fine  and  impressive.  No  traveller  should  leave  Quebec 
without  visiting  the  Chaudiere. 

The  village  of  Loretto  is  a  melancholy  sight.  It  con- 
tains the  last  and  only  remains  of  the  once  powerful  tribe 
of  Huron  Indians.  Brandy  and  gunpowder  have  done 
their  work,  and  about  two  hundred  of  this  once  noble 
people,  are  all  that  survive.  They  have  adopted  the  re- 
ligion, and  speak  the  language,  of  the  Canadians.  There 
is  a  church  in  the  village,  and  a  priest  who  mingles  with 
his  flock,  and  is  beloved  by  them.  Christianity  is  the  only 
benefit  for  which  the  red  man  is  indebted  to  the  white. 


388  FUTURE  DESTINY  OF  THE  CANADAS. 

The  latter  cheats,  robs,  corrupts,  and  ruins  him  in  this 
world,  and  then  makes  a  merit  of  saving  him  in  the  next. 
The  benefit  is  pure,  but  these  poor  Indians  may  reason- 
ably distrust  the  gift,  when  there  is  blood  on  the  hand  by 
which  it  is  bestowed. 

The  legislative  bodies  were  not  sitting,  and  I  know  no- 
thing of  Canadian  politics.  There  is  a  Mr.  Papineau, 
however,  who  plays  with  great  spirit  the  part  of  a  colo- 
nial O'Connel.  The  field  is  not  large,  but  he  makes  the 
most  of  it,  and  enjoys  the  dignity  of  being  a  thorn  in  the 
side  of  each  successive  governor.  Mr.  Papineau  and  his 
party  are  continually  grumbling  at  being  subject  to  Bri- 
tish dominion;  but  what  would  they  have?  They  pay 
no  taxes.  John  Bull  spends  his  money  pretty  freely 
among  them,  as  they  may  see  by  the  works  on  Cape  Dia- 
mond, and  the  Rideau  Canal.  The  latter  must  be  of  im- 
mediate and  great  benefit  to  both  provinces;  but  had  the 
Canadians  been  left  to  their  own  resources,  it  could  never 
have  existed.  What  would  they  have?  The  Lower 
Province,  at  least,  will  not  join  the  United  States;  and  it 
is  too  poor,  and  to  helpless,  to  set  up  for  itself.  Withdraw 
British  capital  from  the  colony,  and  what  would  remain? 
Rags,  poverty,  and  empty  harbours. 

With  regard  .to  the  Upper  Province,  the  time  is  fast  ap- 
proaching when  it  will  join  the  United  States.  Every 
thing  tends  towards  this  consummation.  The  canals 
which  connect  the  vast  chain  of  lakes  with  the  Ohio  and 
the  Hudson,  must  accelerate  its  advent.  The  Canadian 
farmer  already  has  easier  access  to  the  markets  of  New 
York  and  New  Orleans,  than  he  has  to  that  of  Quebec. 
The  mass  of  the  people  are  republicans  in  politics,  and 
anarchists  in  morals.  Let  them  go.  The  loss  to  Eng- 
land will  be  trifling.  The  eagle  does  not  drcop  his  wing 
for  the  loss  of  a  feather/ 

It  is  well,  however,  that  British  statesmen  should  stea- 
dily contemplate  this  event,  and  direct  their  policy  ac- 
cordingly. Let  them  not  hope  to  conciliate  this  people 
by  concession.  "The  mighty  stream  of  tendency"  can- 
not be  arrested  in  its  progress.  But  it  will  become  a 
matter  of  grave  consideration  whether  a  province  so  cir- 
cumstanced should  be  enriched  by  any  farther  expendi- 
ture of  British  revenue — whether  England  is  still  to  la- 
vish millions  in  building  fortresses  and  constructing  canals; 


BLUNDERS  OF  THE  GOVERNMENT.       399 

and  whether  it  be  not,  on  the  whole,  more  consonant  to 
political  wisdom,  to  leave  the  improvement  of  this  vast 
region  to  individual  enterprise,  and  the  results  of  an  un- 
shackled industry. 

The  Canadians  may  rely  on  it,  that  whenever  a  con- 
siderable majority  of  the  people  become  hostile  to  the 
continuance  of  British  connexion,  they  will  find  little  dif- 
ficulty in  achieving  their  independence.  England  could 
hold  them  in  subjection  by  the  bayonet;  but  she  will  not 
use  it.  She  will  bid  them  farewell;  give  them  her  bless- 
ing, and  leave  them  to  follow  their  own  course.  Whe- 
ther they  will  be  happier  or  more  prosperous,  is  a  question 
which  another  century  must,  probably,  determine. 

When  Lower  Canada  first  came  into  the  possession  of 
Great  Britain,  the  latter  committed  a  great  error  in  not 
insisting  that  her  language  should  be  adopted  in  all  pub- 
lic instruments.  The  consequence  is,  that  eighty  years 
have  passed,  and  the  people  are  still  French.  The  tie  of 
community  of  literature  does  not  exist,  and  the  only  chan- 
nel by  which  moral  influence  can  be  asserted  or  main- 
tained, has  been  wantonly  closed.  The  people  read — 
when  they  read  any  thing — French  books;  French  au- 
thorities are  quoted  in  the  law  courts;  the  French  lan- 
guage is  spoken  in  the  streets;  French  habits,  French 
feelings,  French  prejudices,  abound  every  where.  The 
lapse  of  three  generations  has  witnessed  no  advancement, 
moral  or  intellectual,  in  the  Canadians  of  the  Lower  Pro- 
vince. They  are  now  precisely  what  they  were  at  the 
period  of  the  conquest. 

Another  decided  blunder  was  the  separation  of  Cana- 
da into  two  provinces.  This  has  prevented  any  general 
amalgamation  of  the  population.  One  province  is  deci- 
dedly French;  the  other  no  less  exclusively  English,  or 
American.  The  latter  enjoys  a  milder  climate,  and 
more  fertile  soil,  and  increases  in  wealth  and  population 
far  more  rapidly  than  its  rival.  It  is  to  the  Upper  Pro- 
vince that  the  whole  tide  of  emigration  is  directed.  It 
is  with  produce  of  the  Upper  Province  that  the  ships 
navigating  the  St.  Lawrence  are  freighted;  Lower  Ca- 
nada exports  little  but  lumber. 

The  French  Canadians,  therefore,  oppose  every  im- 
provement by  which  the  rival  province  may  be  bene- 
fited, and,  with  such  feelings,  collision  on  a  thousand 


390  DIFFICULTY  OF  GOVERNING  THEM. 

points  is  unavoidable.  Internal  improvement  is  impeded, 
for  there  could  be  no  agreement  as  to  the  proportion  of 
contribution  to  be  furnished  by  each  province.  The 
breach,  instead  of  healing,  is  annually  widened,  and  Up- 
per Canada  is  thrown  into  an  intercourse  with  the  Uni- 
ted States,  the  result  of  which  I  have  already  ventured 
to  predict. 

The  government  of  Canada  may  in  one  sense  be  called 
a  bed  of  roses,  for  it  is  full  of  thorns.  Every  governor 
must  find  it  so.  He  has  to  deal  with  men  of  mean 
minds  and  selfish  passions;  to  maintain  the  necessary 
privileges  of  the  Crown;  to  prevent  the  rational  freedom 
of  a  limited  monarchy  from  degenerating  into  the  un- 
bridled license  of  democracy.  He  is  beset  by  clamour, 
and  assailed  by  faction,  and  must  either  become  the 
leader  of  one  party,  or  oflend  both.  His  difficulties  and 
embarrassments  increase.  He  appeals  for  support  to  his 
government,  and  receives  a  letter  of  thanks  and  his  re- 
call. 

Such  has  been  the  story  of  many  governors  of  these 
troublesome  provinces,  and  will  probably  be  that  of  many 
more.  But  if  any  man  be  calculated  to  conciliate  all  the 
passions  and  prejudices  of  the  Canadians,  it  is  Lord 
Aylmer.  His  amiable  character,  his  kind  yet  dignified 
manners,  his  practical  good  sense,  his  experience  of  bu- 
siness, and  extensive  knowledge  of  the  world,  can  scarce- 
ly fail  to  exert  a  salutary  influence  in  soothing  the  aspe- 
rities of  party,  and  exposing  the  motives  of  turbulence, 
by  depriving  it  of  excuse.  At  the  period  of  my  visit 
to  Canada,  I  rejoice  to  say  it  was  so.  In  every  society, 
I  heard  the  new  governor  spoken  of  with  respect,  and 
even  the  "  sweet  voices  "  of  the  populace  were  in  his 
favour. 

The  travels  of  the  Schoolmaster  have  not  yet  led  him 
to  these  wintry  regions.  Few  of  the  lower  order  of 
Canadians  can  read,  and  the  education  even  of  the  more 
wealthy  is  very  defective.  The  ladies  resemble  those 
of  the  United  States,  and  are  subject  to  the  same  pre- 
maturity of  decay.  But  they  are  pleasing  and  amiable, 
though  given  to  commit  sad  slaughter  among  sensitive 
and  romantic  subalterns.  The  older  stagers  are  general- 
ly charm-proof,  and  the  marriage  of  a  major  is  an  event 
as  remarkable  in  the  colony  as  the  appearance  of  a  comet. 


LONGUEUIL.  391 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

JOURNEY  TO  NEW  YORK. 

I  LEFT  Quebec  with  regret,  for  it  was  necessary  to 
bid  farewell  to  an  agreeable  circle,  and  an  old  friend. 
The  voyage  to  Montreal  presented  nothing  remarkable, 
and,  after  passing  a  few  days  in  that  city,  I  prepared  to 
return  to  the  United  States. 

After  crossing  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Longueuil,  it  was 
discovered  that  a  portmanteau  had  been  left  at  Montreal. 
My  servant  accordingly  returned  in  the  steam-boat, 
while  I  was  forced  to  wait  several  hours  for  his  reap- 
pearance in  a  very  miserable  tavern.  After  all,  this 
compulsory  arrangement  was  not  unfortunate.  The 
heat  was  intense,  and  travelling,  if  not  impossible,  would 
have  been  very  disagreeable.  In  order  to  pass  the  time. 
I  bathed  in  the  river,  read  all  the  old  newspapers  the 
house  could  afford,  and,  finally — discovering  that  the 
luxury  of  sofas  was  unknown  at  Longueuil — went  to 
bed.  ' 

Why  this  dirty  and  paltry  village  should  be  more  tor- 
mented by  flies  than  other  places,  I  know  not.  Every 
room  in  the  tavern  absolutely  swarmed  with  them.  My- 
riads of  these  detestable  insects,  duly  officered  by  blue- 
bottles, kept  hovering  around,  and  perched  in  whole  bat- 
talions, at  every  favourable  opportunity,  on  the  face  and 
hands  of  the  victim.  Under  these  circumstances,  a  siesta 
was  impossible,  and,  on  descending  to  dinner,  I  could,  at 
first,  discern  nothing  but  four  dishes  of  flies.  The  sight 
was  not  calculated  to  increase  appetite,  and,  during  the 
meal,  a  woman,  with  a  large  fan,  was  obliged  to  defend 
the  table  from  their  approach.  It  was  not  till  evening 
that  my  servant  returned  with  the  portmanteau,  and 
having  procured  a  carriage,  I  lost  nol  a  moment  in  es- 
caping from  a  village  which  appeared  to  suffer  under  a 
plague,  unparalleled  since  the  days  of  Pharaoh. 

The  road  to  Chambly  was  execrable,  and  the  journey 
both  tedious  and  disagreeable.  I  passed  the  night  there,. 


392  PLATTSBURG. 

and  on  the  following  morning  proceeded  to  St.  John's. 
The  road  follows  the  course  of  the  Sorell,  which,  at  St. 
John's,  is  somewhat  more  than  a  mile  in  breadth.  A 
steam-boat,  fortunately,  was  about  to  sail  for  Whitehall, 
at  the  southern  extremity  of  Lake  Champlain,  and  in  ten 
minutes  I  was  on  board.  From  St.  John's,  the  river 
gradually  widens,  till  it  reaches  Isle  Aux  Noix,  a  post  of 
some  strength,  which  is  occupied  by  a  British  garrison. 
Here  the  traveller  bids  farewell  to  Canada,  and  enters 
the  territory  of  the  United  States. 

Lake  Champlain  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  about 
140  miles  long,  with  a  mean  breadth  of  about  five  or  six. 
The  surrounding  country  is  undulating,  and,  in  most 
places,  yet  unredeemed  from  a  state  of  nature.  It  was 
the  theatre  of  many  interesting  events  in  the  early  histo- 
ry of  the  colonies.  Traces  of  the  forts  at  Ticonderago 
and  Crown  Point  are  still  visible. 

We  passed  Plattsburg,  the  scene  of  the  unfortunate  na- 
val action  in  1814.  1  was  then  serving  in  the  colonies, 
and  had  a  good  deal  of  correspondence  with  Commodore 
Sir  James  Yeo,  relative  to  the  charges  he  afterwards  ex- 
hibited against  Sir  George  Prevost.*  The  historian  who 
would  illustrate  by  facts  the  almost  incredible  amount  of 
folly,  ignorance  and  imbecility,  by  which  the  arms  of 
England  may  be  tarnished,  and  her  resources  wasted  with 
impunity,  should  bestow  a  careful  examination  on  the  de- 
tails of  the  Plattsburg  expedition.  He  will  then  precisely 
understand  how  war  can  be  turned  into  child's  play,  and 
its  operations  regulated,  as  in  the  Royal  game  of  Goose,  by 
the  twirl  of  a  teetotum. 

*  When  the  order  for  retreat  was  given,  Sir  Manly  Power,  who  com- 
manded a  brigade,  rode  up  to  Sir  George  Prevost,  and  thus  addressed 
him: — "What  is  it  I  hear,  Sir  George?  Can  it  be  possible  that  you 
have  issued  an  order  to  retreat  before  this  miserable  body  of  undisci- 
plined militia?  With  one  battalion  I  pledge  myself  to  drive  them  from 
the  fort  in  ten  minutes.  For  God's  sake,  spare  the  army  this  disgrace. 
For  your  own  sake — for  the  sake  of  us  all — I  implore  you  not  to  tarnish 
the  honour  of  the  British  arms,  by  persisting  in  this  order."  Sir  George 
simply  answered,  "  I  have  issued  the  order,  and  expect  it  to  be  obeyed. " 

In  addition,  it  is  only  necessary  to  add,  that  the  fort  was  of  mud,  that 
its  garrison  was  only  3000  militia,  while  the  retreating  army  consisted 
of  10,000  of  the  finest  troops  in  the  world.  To  heighten  the  disgrace, 
there  was  considerable  sacrifice  of  stores  and  ammunition !  It  is  deeply 
to  be  lamented,  that  the  death  of  Sir  George  Prevost,  shortly  after  his 
recall,  prevented  the  investigation  of  his  conduct  before  a  court  martial 


CALDWELL.  393 

On  the  following  morning  I  quitted  the  steam-boat, 
and,  procuring  a  cart  for  the  conveyance  of  my  goods  and 
chattels,  walked  across  the  mountains  to  Lake  George. 
The  scenery  of  this  lake  is  celebrated,  and  though  I  vi- 
sited it  with  high  expectations,  they  were  not  disap- 
pointed. Lake  George  is  thirty-six  miles  long,  but  rarely 
more  than  five  broad.  In  form,  it  resembles  Winder- 
mere,  but  its  features  are  bolder  and  more  decided.  The 
country,  in  general,  is  yet  unreclaimed,  and  the  sides  of 
the  mountains  are  clothed  with  wood  1o  the  summit. 
Imbosomed  in  the  lake,  are  many  beautiful  islands,  only 
one  of  which  appeared  to  be  inhabited.  Here  and  there 
the  shore  was  diversified  by  cultivation,  and  occasionally 
near  some  quiet  and  retired  haven,  stood  a  log  cottage, 
with  which  the  fancy  delighted  to  connect  a  thousand 
pleasing  associations. 

The  steam-boat  which  conveyed  us  through  this  beau- 
tiful region  was  somewhat  old  and  rickety,  and  her  pro- 
gress slow.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  considered  this 
an  advantage.  It  was  pleasant  to  linger  in  such  a  scene, 
to  resign  the  spirit  to  its  tranquil  influence,  to  people  the 
memory  with  fresh  images  of  beauty,  and,  at  leisure,  to 
behold  those  objects  on  which  the  eye  was  destined  to 
gaze  but  once. 

The  voyage  terminated  at  Caldwell,  a  small  village  at 
the  southern  extremity  of  the  lake.  The  inn  was  com- 
fortable, and  in  the  evening,  having  nothing  better  to  do, 
I  took  a  ramble  in  the  neighbourhood.  About  half  a 
mile  distant  are  the  remains  of  a  British  fort,  called  Fort 
William  Henry.  It  was  erected  in  1755,  by  Sir  William 
Johnson,  and  attacked  in  the  same  year  by  a  French 
force  under  Baron  Dieskau.  The  assailants  were  re- 
pulsed with  great  slaughter,  and  the  loss  of  their  general. 
In  the  following  year,  however,  it  was  invested  by  Mont- 
calm,  at  the  head  of  10,000  men.  Colonel  Munro,  the 
governor,  made  a  gallant  defence,  but  was,  at  length, 
forced  to  capitulate.  The  whole  garrison  were  after- 
wards treacherously  attacked  and  massacred  by  the  In- 
dians attached  to  Montcalm's  army.  The  fort  was  de- 
stroyed, and  has  never  since  been  rebuilt. 

On  the  following  morning,  I  left  Caldwell  in  the  stage 
for  Saratoga  Springs,  the  Cheltenham  of  the  United 

50 


394         THE  FALLS  OF  THE  HUDSON. 

States.  The  road  lay  through  a  country  of  diversified 
features,  and  in  a  state  of  tolerable  cultivation.  It  was 
only  the  end  of  June,  yet  the  corn  was  yellow  in  the 
ear,  and  in  many  places  the  harvest  had  already  com- 
menced. The  crops  were  luxuriant,  and  the  wheat  ears 
struck  me  as  larger  than  any  I  had  ever  seen  in  Eng- 
land. 

The  Falls  of  the  Hudson,  which  I  stopped  to  examine, 
had  not  much  to  excite  the  admiration  of  a  traveller 
fresh  from  Niagara  and  Lower  Canada,  yet  they  are  fine 
in  themselves;  and  if  the  imagination  could  abstract  them 
from  the  numerous  saw  and  corn  mills  they  are  employed 
to  set  in  motion,  and  represent  them  as  they  were  in  the 
days  when  the  bear  and  panther  lorded  it  in  the  surround- 
ing forest,  and  the  wild-deer  came  to  slake  his  thirst  in 
their  basin,  doubtless  the  impression  would  be  very 
striking.  A  fine  waterfall  is  confessedly  a  noble  feature 
in  a  landscape;  but  when  the  surrounding  objects  are 
found  to  be  utterly  inconsistent  with  grandeur  and  har- 
mony of  effect,  the  eye  turns  from  the  scene  with  disap- 
pointment, and  a  sentiment  even  allied  to  disgust.  We 
feel  that  nature  has  been  defaced,  and  that  utility  has 
been  obtained  at  the  expense  of  a  thousand  picturesque 
beauties  and  romantic  associations. 

There  are  people,  no  doubt,  who  are  quite  satisfied 
with  seeing  a  certain  mass  of  water  precipitated  from  a 
given  height,  no  matter  by  what  process  or  in  what  si- 
tuation. The  cataract  makes  a  grand  splash,  and  they 
are  satisfied.  Their  eye  is  offended  by  no  inconsistencies, 
their  ear  by  no  discords.  For  them  there  are  no  sublimi- 
ties in  nature,  nor  vulgarities  in  art.  For  minute  and  de- 
licate beauty  they  have  no  eye,  and  estimate  rock  or 
mountain  as  they  measure  broadcloth,  by  the  yard. 

A  blessing  be  on  all  such.  They  are  honest  men,  no 
doubt,  and  useful.  Their  taste  in  dry  goods  may  be  un- 
exceptionable, and  they  probably  feel  the  whole  beauty 
of  a  landscape — on  a  China  basin.  They  will  travel  far 
to  see  a  waterfall,  or  a  lion,  and  if  the  former  be  made 
to  turn  a  mill,  or  the  latter  a  spit,  their  enjoyment  will 
sustain  prodigious  augmentation. 

Saratoga  has  all  the  appearance  of  a  watering-place. 
There  is  a  certain  smartness  about  it;  an  air  of  preten- 


CLIMATE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES.  395 

sion,  like  that  assumed  by  a  beau,  who  devours  his  shil- 
lings' worth  of  boiled  beef,  in  the  Coal-Hole,  or  the  Che- 
shire-Cheese. It  may  be  called  a  village  of  hotels,  for 
they  abound  in  every  street,  and  give  a  character  to  the 
place.  These  establishments  are  on  a  large  scale;  and 
that  in  which  I  took  up  my  abode  can  accommodate  two 
hundred  visiters. 

To  this  village,  company  flock  in  summer  from  all 
parts  of  the  Union ;  and  the  Congress,  annually  assem- 
bled there,  affords  a  fair  representation  of  all  the  beauty 
and  fashion  of  the  Union.  The  truth  is,  that  such  is  the 
unhealthiness  of  the  climate  in  all  the  Atlantic  cities, 
from  New  York  to  New  Orleans,  that  their  inhabitants 
are  forced  to  migrate  for  several  months,  in  order  to  lay 
in  a  stock  of  health  for  the  consumption  of  spring  and 
winter.  All  direct  their  course  northward.  Some  visit 
the  sea;  others  make  a  trip  to  Niagara,  and  Canada;  but 
by  far  the  greater  number  are  to  be  found  congregated 
at  Saratoga. 

When  on  the  subject  of  climate,  I  may  just  mention, 
that  there  is  no  topic  on  which  Americans  are  more  jea- 
lously sensitive.  It  delights  them  to  believe  that  theirs 
is,  in  all  respects,  a  favoured  land;  that  between  the  St. 
Lawrence  and  Mississippi  the  sky  is  brighter,  the  breezes 
more  salubrious,  and  the  soil  more  fertile,  than  in  any 
other  region  of  the  earth.  There  is  no  harm  in  all  this; 
nay,  it  is  laudable,  if  they  would  only  not  insist  that  all 
strangers  should  view  the  matter  in  the  same  light,  and 
express  admiration  as  rapturous  as  their  own. 

Judging  from  my  own  experience,  I  should  certainly 
pronounce  the  climate  of  the  northern  and  central  States 
to  be  only  one  degree  better  than  that  of  Nova  Scotia, 
which  struck  me — when  there  in  1814 — as  being  the 
very  worst  in  the  world.  On  making  the  American 
coast,  we  had  four  days  of  denser  fog  than  I  ever  saw  in 
London.  After  my  arrival  at  New  York,  in  November, 
the  weather,  for  about  a  week,  was  very  fine.  It  then 
became  cloudy  and  tempestuous,  and  during  the  whole 
period  of  my  residence  at  Boston,  I  scarcely  saw  the  sun. 
At  Philadelphia,  there  came  on  a  deluge  of  snow,  by 
which  the  ground  was  covered  from  January  till  March. 
At  Baltimore,  there  was  no  improvement.  Snow  lay 
deep  on  the  ground  during  the  whole  period  of  my  resi- 


396  CLIMATE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

dence  at  Washington,  and  the  roads  were  only  passable 
with  difficulty.  On  crossing  the  Alleghany  Mountains, 
however,  the  weather  became  delightful,  and  continued 
so  during  the  voyage  to  New  Orleans.  While  I  remained 
in  that  city,  three  days  out  of  every  four  were  oppres- 
sively close  and  sultry,  and  the  atmosphere  was  damp 
and  unpleasant  to  breathe.  During  my  journey  from 
Mobile  to  Charleston,  though  generally  hotter  than  desi- 
rable, the  weather  was  in  the  main  bright  and  beautiful; 
but  the  very  day  of  my  arrival  at  the  latter  place,  the 
thermometer  fell  twenty  degrees;  and  in  the  33d  degree 
of  latitude,  in  the  month  of  May,  the  inmates  of  the  ho- 
tel were  crowding  round  a  blazing  fire.  On  my  return 
to  New  York,  I  found  the  population  still  muffled  in 
cloaks  and  great  coats,  and  the  weather  bitterly  cold. 
Not  a  vestige  of  spring  was  discernible,  at  a  season  when, 
in  England,  the  whole  country  is  covered  with  verdure. 
During  the  last  week  of  May,  however,  the  heat  became 
very  great.  At  Quebec,  it  was  almost  intolerable,  the 
thermometer  ranging  daily  between  84  and  92°.  At 
New  York,  in  July,  the  weather  was  all  a  salamander 
could  desire;  and  I  embarked  for  England,  under  a  sun 
more  burning  than  it  is  at  all  probable  I  shall  ever  suffer 
from  again. 

In  the  northern  and  central  States — for  of  the  climate 
of  the  southern  States  it  is  unnecessary  to  speak — the 
annual  range  of  the  thermometer  exceeds  a  hundred 
degrees.  The  heat  in  summer  is  that  of  Jamaica;  the 
cold  in  winter  is  that  of  Russia.  Such  enormous  vicissi- 
tudes must  necessarily  impair  the  vigour  of  the  human 
frame ;  and  when  we  take  into  calculation  the  vast  por- 
tion of  the  United  States  in  which  the  atmosphere  is  con- 
taminated by  marsh  exhalations,  it  will  not  be  difficult, 
with  the  auxiliary  influences  of  dram-drinking  and  to- 
bacco-chewing, to  account  for  the  squalid  and  sickly  as- 
pect of  the  population.  Among  the  peasantry,  I  never 
saw  one  florid  and  robust  man,  nor  any  one  distinguished 
by  that  fulness  and  rotundity  of  muscle,  which  every 
where  meets  the  eye  in  England. 

In  many  parts  of  the  Stale  of  New  York,  the  appear- 
ance of  the  inhabitants  was  such  as  so  excite  compas- 
sion. In  the  Maremma  of  Tuscany,  and  the  Campagna 


I 


CLIMATE  Of  THE  UNITED  STATES.  397 

of  Rome,  I  had  seen  beings  similar,  but  scarcely  more 
wretched.  In  the  "  fall,"  as  they  call  it,  intermittent  fe- 
vers come  as  regularly  as  the  fruit  season.  During  my 
journey,  I  made  inquiries  at  many  cottages,  and  found 
none  of  them  had  escaped  the  scourge.  But  inquiries 
were  useless.  The  answer  was  generally  too  legible  in 
the  countenance  of  the  withered  mother,  and  in  those  of 
her  emaciated  offipring. 

It  seems  ridiculous  to  compare  such  a  climate  with 
that  of  England,  and  yet  there  is  nothing  to  which  Ame- 
ricans are  more  addicted.  It  is  a  subject  regularly  ta- 
bled in  every  society.  "  How  delightful  our  climate 
must  appear  to  you,"  observed  a  lady,  "  after  the  rain 
and  fogs  of  your  own  country !" — "  Whether,  on  the 
whole,  do  you  prefer  our  climate  or  that  of  Italy?"  in- 
quired a  gentleman  of  New  York,  in  a  tone  of  the  most 
profound  gravity.  My  answer,  I  fear,  gave  offence,  for 
it  became  the  signal  for  a  general  meteorological  attack. 
"  I  was  three  months  in  England,"  observed  one,  "  and  it 
rained  every  hour  of  the  time." 

"  Though  attached  to  the  soil  of  my  country,  I  had 
really  no  inclination  to  vindicate  its  atmosphere.  I, 
therefore,  simply  replied,  that  the  gentleman  had  been  un- 
fortunate in  the  period  of  his  visit.  But  I  was  not  suf- 
fered to  escape  thus.  Another  traveller  declared  he  had 
been  nine  months  there,  without  better  luck;  and  as  the 
nine  months,  added  to  the  three,  precisely  made  up  the 
whole  year,  of  course,  I  had  nothing  farther  to  say. 

But  this  tone  of  triumph  is  not  always  tenable.  During 
the  days,  weeks,  and  months,  when  the  weather  is  mani- 
festly indefensible,  the  lo  Poeans  give  place  to  apologies. 
A  traveller  is  entreated,  nay,  sometimes  even  implored, 
not  to  judge  of  the  climate  by  the  specimen  he  has  seen 
of  it.  Before  his  arrival,  the  sky  was  cloudless,  and  the 
atmosphere  serene.  He  has  just  come  in  the  nick  of  bad 
weather.  Never  in  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant, 
was  the  snow  so  deep  or  so  permanent.  Never  was  spring 
so  tardy  in  its  approach,  and  never  were  vicissitudes  of 
temperature  so  sudden  and  frequent.  In  short,  he  is 
desired  to  believe  that  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  is 
suspended  on  his  approach;  that  his  presence  in  an 
American  city  deranges  the  whole  action  of  the  elements. 


398  NATURE  OF  THE  SPRINGS. 

All  this  is  simply  a  bore,  and  the  annoyance  merits  re- 
cord, only  because  it  contributes  to  illustrate  the  Ameri- 
can character,  in  one  of  its  most  remarkable  features — 
a  restless  and  insatiable  appetite  for  praise,  which  de- 
fies all  restraint  of  reason  or  common  sense.  It  is  far 
from  enough  that  a  traveller  should  express  himself  de- 
lighted with  the  country  and  its  inhabitants — that  he 
should  laud  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  the  former,  and 
all  that  is  wise,  dignified,  and  amiable  in  the  latter :  he  is 
expected  to  extend  his  admiration  even  into  the  upper 
air;  to  feel  hurricanes,  and  speak  of  zephyrs,  to  gaze  on 
clouds,  and  behold  the  pure  azure,  and,  while  parching 
under  the  influence  of  a  burning  sun,  to  lower  the  ther- 
mometer of  his  words,  and  dilate  on  the  genial  and  de- 
lightful warmth  of  the  American  summer ! 

At  Saratoga,  the  whole  company,  as  usual,  dine  in  an 
enormous  saloon,  after  which  the  gentlemen  lounge 
about  the  balconies,  smoking  cigars,  while  the  ladies 
within  read,  net  purses,  or  endeavour  to  extract  music 
from  a  jingling  piano.  At  one  or  other  of  the  hotels  there 
is  generally  a  ball,  and  gentlemen  who  seem  to  have  stu- 
died dancing  at  some  Shaker  seminary,  caper  gallantly 
through  the  mazes  of  the  waltz  or  the  quadrille. 

In  the  morning,  all  are  abroad  to  drink  the  waters. 
The  springs  are  numerous,  and  vary  both  in  the  efficacy 
and  nature  of  their  effects.  I  made  the  tour  of  the  most 
celebrated,  and  drank  a  tumbler  of  each.  None  of  them 
are  disagreeable  to  the  taste,  and  all  are  slightly  effer- 
vescent. The  Congress  spring  is  most  in  repute,  and  is 
supplied  from  a  very  neat  fountain  by  boys,  who  dip  the 
drinking-glasses  into  the  well.  This  water  is  bottled, 
and  sold  all  over  the  Union.  Both  in  taste  and  appear- 
ance it  resembles  Seltzer. 

Among  invalids,  the  prevailing  complaint  was  evi- 
dently dyspepsia,  of  which  one  hears  a  great  deal  more 
than  is  quite  agreeable  in  the  United  States.  Even  la- 
dies inflict  their  sufferings  without  compunction  on  the 
auditor.  One — I  confess  she  was  married,  and  not 
young — assured  me  she  had  derived  great  benefit  from 
employing  an  apothecary  to  manipulate  her  stomach 
every  morning!  At  the  end  of  a  fortnight,  she  was 
quite  cured;  and  the  practice  of  the  apothecary  became 


ALBANY. 

so  extensive,  that  he  was  obliged  to  employ  assistant 
manipulators. 

After  breakfast,  the  favourite  place  of  resort  was  a 
lake  about  three  miles  distant,  where  the  company  drove 
in  carriages  to  fish.  There  was  a  platform  erected  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  fishers,  from  which  about  fif- 
ty rods  were  simultaneously  protruded.  The  scene  was 
ludicrous  enough.  The  rapture  of  a  young  lady  or  an 
elderly  gentleman  on  securing  a  fish,  apparently  of  the 
minnow  species,  would  have  made  admirable  matter  for 
Matthews.  There  were  two  or  three  men  whose  sole 
occupation  it  was  to  bait  hooks.  During  my  stay,  none 
of  the  party  had  occasion  for  a  landing  net. 

A  few  days  of  Saratoga  were  agreeable  enough,  but 
the  scene  was  too  monotonous  to  maintain  its  attraction 
long.  I  became  tired  of  it,  and  moved  on  to  Ballston 
Spa,  about  seven  miles  distant.  The  hotel  at  Ballston  is 
excellent,  but  the  waters  are  considered  inferior  to  those 
of  Saratoga,  and  the  place  has  been  of  late  years  com- 
paratively deserted.  Near  the  hotel  is  the  house  inha- 
bited by  Moreau  during  his  residence  in  the  United 
States.  He  quitted  it  to  join  the  allied  army,  and  his 
fate  is  matter  of  history.  With  every  allowance  for  his 
situation,  one  cannot  but  feel  that  his  fame  would  have 
rested  on  a  firmer  foundation,  had  he  declined  to  bear 
arms  against  his  country. 

If  Saratoga  was  dull,  Ballston  was  stupid.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  seen,  and  nothing  to  be  done,  except  loiter- 
ing in  the  neighbouring  woods,  which,  being  intersected 
by  a  river  called  the  Kayaderoseras,  presented  some  pret- 
ty scenery.  The  party  in  the  hotel  was  not  numerous, 
and  two  days  of  Ballston  were  enough.  On  the  third 
morning  I  departed  for  Albany. 

Albany  presents,  I  believe,  the  only  instance  of  feudal 
tenure  in  the  United  States.  At  the  first  settlement  of 
New  York  by  the  Dutch,  a  gentleman,  named  Van  Ran- 
sellaer,  received  from  the  High  and  Mighty  Lords  a  grant 
of  the  land  on  which  Albany  now  stands,  with  the  adja- 
cent territory  to  the  distance  of  twelve  Dutch  miles  on 
every  side.  By  far  the  greater  portion  of  this  princely 
domain  has  been  disposed  of  on  perpetual  leases,  with  due 
reservation  of  all  manorial  privileges  of  tolls,  quitrents, 


400  MR-  WEIR'S  PICTURES. 

right  of  minerals,  proprietorship  of  mills,  &c.&c.  The  pre- 
sent possessor  still  retains  the  title  of  Patroon,  and  is  one 
of  the  richest  citizens  of  the  Union.  His  family  are 
treated  with  a  sort  of  prescriptive  respect,  which  it  will 
probably  require  another  half  century  to  eradicate.  They 
are  likewise  the  objects  of  some  jealousy.  From  every 
civic  office  in  Albany  they  are  rigidly  excluded. 

For  the  last  time,  I  embarked  on  the  beautiful  Hud- 
son. I  had  many  friends  in  New  York,  and  my  pleasure 
in  returning  to  it  was  tinged  with  melancholy  at  the 
thought  that  I  was  so  soon  to  part  with  them  for  ever. 
During  my  absence,  a  change  had  come  over  the  appear- 
ance of  the  city.  I  now  saw  it  under  the  influence  of  a 
burning  sun.  The  gay  and  the  wealthy  had  deserted 
it;  the  busy  only  remained.  By  day  the  temperature 
was  oppressive,  and  there  was  no  moving  out  before  eve- 
ning. The  theatres  were  open,  but  who  could  enter 
them  with  the  thermometer  at  ninety  1  There  was  a 
mimic  Vauxhall,  in  the  cool  recesses  of  which  one  might 
eat  ice  in  comfort,  and  an  excellent  French  Cafe,  which 
afforded  all  manner  of  refreshment  to  an  overheated  pe- 
destrian. In  spite  of  the  season,  many  of  my  friends  were 
in  town,  or  at  their  villas  in  the  neighbourhood.  Hospi- 
table doors  were  still  open,  as  I  had  always  found  them. 
There  was  little  gaiety,  but  abundance  of  society.  The 
former  I  did  not  want,  the  latter  I  enjoyed. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  1  became  acquainted  with  a 
young  artist,  who  promises  to  occupy  a  high  rank  in  his 
profession.  His  name  is  Weir.  Like  Harding,  he  is  full 
of  talent  and  enthusiasm,  and  if  I  do  not  mistake,  his  name 
is  yet  destined  to  become  familiar  to  English  ears.  Mr. 
Weir  has  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  passing  several  years 
in  Italy,  and  has  returned  to  his  native  city  with  a  taste 
formed  on  the  great  masterpieces  of  ancient  art,  and  a 
power  of  execution  unusual  in  any  country,  to  claim  that 
patronage  which  genius  too  often  demands  in  vain. 

I  was  much  gratified  by  many  of  his  pictures.  He  dis- 
plays a  fine  sense  of  beauty  in  them  all;  but  I  was  parti- 
cularly struck  with  one  which  represents  a  dying  Greek. 
He  has  been  wounded  in  the  battle,  and  his  limbs  have 
with  difficulty  borne  him  to  the  presence  of  his  mistress. 
His  life-blood  is  fast  ebbing,  and  his  face  is  deadly  pale 


AMERICAN  NEWSPAPERS.  401 

His  head  reclines  on  her  arm,  but  the  approach  of  death 
is  indicated  in  the  general  relaxation  of  muscle,  and  we 
know  not  whether  he  be  yet  conscious  of  its  pressure. 
The  countenance  which  gazes  downward  with  irrepres- 
sible agony  on  his,  is  animated  by  no  gleam  of  hope. 
There  is  no  convulsion  of  the  features,  because  intense 
grief  is  uniformly  calm.  It  is  minor  emotion,  alone, 
which  finds  relief  in  tears. 

The  composition  is  harmonious.  A  tower  surmounted 
by  a  flag,  a  few  palm  trees,  the  battlements  of  a  city  in 
the  second  distance,  and  the  setting  sun,  which  sheds  a 
melancholy  radiance  on  the  scene,  complete  this  simple, 
but  impressive  picture.  The  sketches  of  Mr.  Weir,  are, 
perhaps,  even  finer  than  the  more  elaborate  productions 
of  his  pencil, — a  circumstance  which  I  am  apt  to  consider 
as  a  test  of  power.  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  possess 
one,  which  I  value  very  highly,  and  which  has  been  ad- 
mired by  many  first-rate  judges  of  art. 

Of  the  public  press  I  have  not  yet  spoken,  and  I  have 
something  to  say  on  it,  though  not  a  great  deal.  Every 
Englishman  must  be  struck  with  the  great  inferiority  of 
American  newspapers  to  those  of  his  own  country.  In 
order  to  form  a  fair  estimate  of  their  merit,  I  read  news- 
papers from  all  parts  of  the  Union,  and  found  them  ut- 
terly contemptible  in  point  of  talent,  and  dealing  in 
abuse  so  virulent,  as  to  excite  a  feeling  of  disgust,  not 
only  with  the  writers,  but  with  the  public  which  afforded 
them  support.  Tried  by  this  standard — and  I  know  not 
how  it  can  be  objected  to — the  moral  feeling  of  this  peo- 
ple must  be  estimated  lower  than  in  any  deductions  from 
other  circumstances  1  have  ventured  to  rate  it.  Public 
men  would  appear  to  be  proof  against  all  charges  which 
are  not  naturally  connected  with  the  penitentiary  or  the 
gibbet.  The  war  of  politics  seems  not  the  contest  of 
opinion  supported  by  appeal  to  enlightened  argument, 
and  acknowledged  principles,  but  the  squabble  of  greedy 
and  abusive  partisans,  appealing  to  the  vilest  passions  of 
the  populace,  and  utterly  unscrupulous  as  to  their  instru- 
ments of  attack. 

I  assert  this  deliberately,  and  with  a  full  recollection 
of  the  unwarrantable  lengths  to  which  political  hostility 

51 


402  VIOLENCE  OF  THE  PRESS. 

in  England  is  too  often  carried.  Our  newspaper  and 
periodical  press  is  bad  enough.  Its  sins  against  propriety 
cannot  be  justified,  and  ought  not  to  be  defended.  But 
its  violence  is  meekness,  its  liberty  restraint,  and  even  its 
atrocities  are  virtues,  when  compared  with  that  system 
of  brutal  and  ferocious  outrage  which  distinguishes  the 
press  in  America.  In  England,  even  an  insinuation 
against  personal  honour  is  intolerable.  A  hint — a  breath 
— the  contemplation  even  of  a  possibility  of  tarnish — such 
things  are  sufficient  to  poison  the  tranquillity,  and,  unless 
met  by  prompt  vindication,  to  ruin  the  character  of  a 
public  man;  but  in  America,  it  is  thought  necessary  to 
have  recourse  to  other  weapons.  The  strongest  epithets 
of  a  ruffian  vocabulary  are  put  in  requisition.  No  vil- 
lany  is  too  gross  or  improbable  to  be  attributed  to  a 
statesman  in  this  intelligent  community.  An  editor  knows 
the  swallow  of  his  readers,  and,  of  course,  deals  out  no- 
thing which  he  considers  likely  to  stick  in  their  gullet. 
He  Icnows  the  fineness  of  their  moral  feelings,  and  his 
own  interest  leads  him  to  keep  within  the  limits  of  de- 
mocratic propriety. 

The  opponents  of  a  candidate  for  office  are  generally 
not  content  with  denouncing  his  principles,  or  deducing 
from  the  tenor  of  his  political  life,  grounds  for  question- 
ing the  purity  of  his  motives.  They  accuse  him  boldly 
of  burglary  or  arson,  or,  at  the  very  least,  of  petty  lar- 
ceny. Time,  place,  and  circumstances,  are  all  stated. 
The  candidate  for  Congress  or  the  Presidency  is  broadly 
asserted  to  have  picked  pockets  or  pocketed  silver  spoons, 
or  to  have  been  guilty  of  something  equally  mean  and 
contemptible.  Two  instances  of.this  occur  at  this  moment 
to  rny  memory.  In  one  newspaper,  a  member  of  Con- 
gress was  denounced  as  having  feloniously  broken  open 
a  scrutoire,  and  having  thence  stolen  certain  bills  and 
bank-notes ;  another  was  charged  with  selling  franks  at 
twopence  apiece,  and  thus  coppering  his  pocket  at  the 
expense  of  the  public. 

It  may  be  that  such  charges  obtain  little  credit  with 
the  majority  of  the  people,  and  I  am  willing  to  believe 
that  in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  they  are  ex- 
aggerated, or  even  absolutely  false :  yet  they  evidently 
obtain  credit  somewhere,  or  they  would  not  be  made. 


CHEAPNESS  OF  NEWSPAPERS.  453 

However  unfounded,  the  paper  loses  no  support  from 
having  advanced  them;  and  where  so  much  mud  is 
thrown,  the  chances  are,  that  some  portion  of  it  will 
stick.  At  all  events,  the  tarnish  left  by  the  filthy  and 
offensive  missile  cannot  be  obliterated.  In  such  a  case, 
innocence  is  no  protection.  The  object  of  calumny  feels 
in  his  inmost  soul  that  he  has  suffered  degradation.  He 
cannot  cherish  the  delusion  that  the  purity  of  his  cha- 
racter has  placed  him  above  suspicion ;  and  those  who 
have  studied  human  nature  most  deeply,  are  aware  how 
often  "  things  outward  do  draw  the  inward  quality  after 
them,"  and  the  opinion  of  the  world  works  its  own  ac- 
complishment. In  general,  suspected  integrity  rests  on 
a  frail  foundation.  Public  confidence  is  the  corner-stone 
of  public  honour ;  and  the  man  who  is  compelled  to  brave 
suspicion,  is  already  half  prepared  to  encounter  disgrace. 

The  circumstances  to  which  I  have  alluded  admit  of 
easy  explanation.  Newspapers  are  so  cheap  in  the 
United  States,  that  the  generality  even  of  the  lowest  or- 
der can  afford  to  purchase  them.  They  therefore  de- 
pend for  support  on  the  most  ignorant  class  of  the  people. 
Every  thing  they  contain  must  be  accommodated  to  the 
taste  and  apprehension  of  men  who  labour  daily  for  their 
bread,  and  are,  of  course,  indifferent  to  refinement  either 
of  language  or  reasoning.  With  such  readers,  whoever 
"  peppers  the  highest  is  surest  to  please."  Strong  words 
take  place  of  strong  arguments,  and  every  vulgar  booby 
who  can  call  names,  and  procure  a  set  of  types  upon 
credit,  may  set  up  as  an  editor,  with  a  fair  prospect  of 
success. 

In  England,  it  is  fortunately  still  different.  Newspa- 
pers being  expensive,  the  great  body  of  their  supporters 
are  to  be  found  among  people  of  comparative  wealth  and 
intelligence,  though  they  practically  circulate  among  the 
poorer  classes  in  abundance  sufficient  for  all  purposes  of 
information.  The  public,  whose  taste  they  are  obliged  to 
consult,  is,  therefore,  of  a  higher  order ;  and  the  conse- 
quence of  this  arrangement  is  apparent  in  the  vast  supe- 
riority of  talent  they  display,  and  in  the  wider  range  of 
knowledge  and  argument  which  they  hring  to  bear  on  all 
questions  of  public  interest. 

How  long  this  may  continue  it  is  impossible  to  predict, 


404  VIOLENCE  OF  POLITICAL  HOSTILITY. 

but  I  trust  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  will  weigh 
well  the  consequences,  before  he  ventures  to  take  off,  or 
even  materially  to  diminish,  the  tax  on  newspapers.  He 
may  rely  on  it,  that,  bad  as  the  state  of  the  public  press 
may  be,  it  cannot  be  improved  by  any  legislative  mea- 
sure. Remove  the  stamp  duty,  and  the  consequence  will 
inevitably  be,  that  there  will  be  two  sets  of  newspapers, 
one  for  the  rich  and  educated,  the  other  for  the  poor  and 
ignorant.  England,  like  America,  will  be  inundated  by 
productions  contemptible  in  point  of  talent,  but  not  the 
less  mischievous  on  that  account.  The  check  of  enlight- 
ened opinion — the  only  efficient  one — on  the  press  will 
be  annihilated.  The  standard  of  knowledge  and  morals 
will  be  lowered ;  and  let  it,  above  all,  be  remembered, 
that  this  tax,  if  removed,  can  never  after  be  imposed. — 
Once  abolished,  be  the  consequences  what  they  may,  it  is  abo- 
lished for  ever.  The  duty  on  advertisements  is,  undoubt- 
edly, impolitic,  and  should  be  given  up  so  soon  as  the 
necessities  of  the  revenue  will  admit  of  it;  but  I  am  con- 
fidently persuaded  that  the  government  which  shall  per- 
mit political  journals  to  circulate  in  England  without 
restraint,  will  inflict  an  evil  on  the  country,  the  conse- 
quences of  which  will  extend  far  beyond  the  present  ge- 
neration. 

In  America,  the  warfare  of  statesmen  is  no  less  viru- 
lent than  that  of  journals,  and  is  conducted  with  the 
same  weapons.  When  discord  lights  her  torch  in  the 
cabinet  of  Washington,  it  blazes  with  unexampled  vio- 
lence. It  was  about  this  period  that  the  cabinet  of  Ge- 
neral Jackson  suddenly  exploded  like  a  rocket,  and  the 
country  found  itself  without  a  ministry.  This  catastro- 
phe was  not  produced  by  any  external  assault.  All  had 
gone  smoothly  in  Congress,  and  never  was  any  ministry, 
apparently,  more  firmly  seated.  Had  the  cabinet  been 
composed  of  bachelors,  there  is  no  saying  how  long  or  how 
prosperously  they  might  have  conducted  the  affairs  of  the 
country.  Unfortunately,  they  were  married  men.  One 
minister's  lady  did  not  choose  to  visit  the  lady  of  another; 
and  General  Jackson,  finding  his  talent  as  a  pacificator 
inadequate  to  the  crisis,  determined  on  making  a  clear 
deck,  and  organizing  an  administration  whose  policy 
might  be  less  influenced  by  conjugal  cabals. 


STATE  OF  RELIGION.  405 

The  members  of  the  dismissed  cabinet  had  now  full 
liberty  and  leisure  for  crimination  and  abuse.  A  news- 
paper correspondence  commenced  between  Major  Ea- 
ton, the  Secretary  for  the  War  Department,  and  Mr. 
Ingham,  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury.  The  decent 
courtesies  of  life  were  thrown  aside;  the  coarsest  epi- 
thets were  employed  by  both  parties,  the  most  atrocious 
charges  were  advanced,  and  even  female  character  was 
not  spared  in  this  ferocious  controversy.  Nor  is  this  a 
solitary  instance.  Nearly  at  the  same  period  the  news- 
papers contained  letters  of  Mr.  Crawford,  formerly  a 
member  of  the  Cabinet,  assailing  the  character  of  Mr. 
Calhoun,  the  Vice-President,  in  the  same  spirit,  and  with 
the  same  weapons. 

The  truth  is,  that  in  all  controversies  of  public  men, 
the  only  tribunal  of  appeal  is  the  people,  in  the  broadest 
acceptation  of  the  term.  An  American  statesman  must 
secure  the  support  of  a  numerical  majority  of  the  popu- 
lation, or  his  schemes  of  ambition  at  once  fall  to  the 
ground.  Give  him  the  support  of  the  vulgar,  and  he 
may  despise  the  opinion  of  the  enlightened,  the  honour- 
able, and  the  high-minded.  He  can  only  profess  motives 
palpable  to  the  gross  perceptions  of  the  mean  and  igno- 
rant. He  adapts  his  language,  therefore,  not  only  to 
their  understandings,  but  to  their  taste;  in  short,  he 
must  stoop  to  conquer,  and,  having  done  so,  can  never 
resume  the  proud  bearing  and  unbending  attitude  of  in- 
dependence. 

In  regard  to  religion,  it  is  difficult,  in  a  community  pre- 
senting such  diversity  of  character  as  the  United  States, 
to  offer  any  observation  which  shall  be  universally  or 
even  generally  true.  A  stranger  is  evidently  debarred 
from  that  intimate  and  extensive  knowledge  of  charac- 
ter and  motive,  which  could  alone  warrant  his  entering 
very  deeply  into  the  subject.  On  the  matter  of  religion, 
therefore,  I  have  but  little  to  say,  and  that  little  shall  be 
said  as  briefly  as  possible. 

Of  these  disgusting  extravagances,  recorded  by  other 
travellers,  I  was  not  witness,  because  I  was  not  anxious 
to  be  so.  But  of  the  prevalence  of  such  things  as  camp- 
meetings  and  revivals,  and  of  the  ignorant  fanaticism  in 
which  they  have  their  origin,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  It 


406  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  METHODISTS. 

is  easy  to  lavish  ridicule  on  such  exhibitions,  and  de- 
monstrate how  utterly  inconsistent  they  are  with  ra- 
tional and  enlightened  piety.  Still,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered, that  in  a  thinly-peopled  country,  any  regular  mi- 
nistration of  religion  is  frequently  impossible;  and  if  by 
any  process  religion  can  be  made  to  exercise  a  strong 
and  permanent  influence  on  the  character  of  those  so  si- 
tuated, a  great  benefit  has  been  conferred  on  society. 
Where  the  choice  lies  between  fanaticism  and  profligacy, 
we  cannot  hesitate  in  preferring  the  former. 

In  a  free  community,  the  follies  of  the  fanatic  are 
harmless.  The  points  on  which  he  differs  from  those 
around  him,  are  rarely  of  a  nature  to  produce  injurious 
effects  on  his  conduct  as  a  citizen.  But  the  man  with- 
out religion  acknowledges  no  restraint  but  human  laws  ; 
and  the  dungeon  and  the  gibbet  are  necessary  to  secure 
the  rights  and  interests  of  his  fellow-citizens  from  vio- 
lation. There  can  be  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  in  a  new- 
ly-settled country,. the  strong  effect  produced  by  these 
camp-meetings  and  revivals,  is,  on  the  whole,  beneficial. 
The  restraints  of  public  opinion  and  penal  legislation  are 
little  felt  in  the  wilderness;  and,  in  such  circumstances, 
the  higkfr  principle  of  action,  communicated  by  reli- 
gion; wrhew  and  additional  security  to  society. 

''Throughout  the  whole  Union,  I  am  assured,  that  the 
Methodists  have  acquired  a  powerful  influence.  The 
preachers  of  that  sect  are,  generally,  well  adapted,  by 
character  and  training,  for  the  duties  they  are  appointed 
to  discharge.  They  perfectly  understand  the  habits, 
feelings,  and  prejudices  of  those  whom  they  address. 
They  mingle  in  the  social  circles  of  the  people,  and  thus 
acquire  knowledge  of  the  secrets  of  families,  which  is 
found  eminently  available  in  increasing  their  influence. 
Through  their  means,  religion  becomes  mingled  with 
the  pursuits,  and  even  the  innocent  amusements  of  life. 
Young  ladies  chant  hymns,  instead  of  Irish  melodies; 
and  the  profane  chorus  gives  place  to  rythmical  doxolo- 
gies.  Grog  parties  commence  with  prayer,  and  termi- 
nate with  benediction.  Devout  smokers  say  grace  over 
a  cigar,  and  chewers  of  the  Nicotian  weed  insert  a  fresh 
quid  with  an  expression  of  pious  gratitude. 

This  may  appear  ludicrous  in  description;  yet  it  ought 


RELIGION  IN  THE  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY.          407 

not  to  be  so.  The  sentiment  of  devotion,  the  love,  the 
hope,  the  gratitude,  the  strong  and  ruling  desire  to  con- 
form our  conduct  to  the  Divine  will,  the  continual  re- 
cognition of  God's  mercy,  even  in  our  most  trifling  en- 
joyments, are  among  the  most  valuable  fruits  of  true 
religion.  If  these  are  debased  by  irrational  superstition, 
and  the  occasional  ravings  of  a  disturbed  imagination, 
let  us  not  reject  the  gold  on  account  of  the  alloy,  nor 
think  only  of  the  sediment,  which  defiles  the  waters  by 
which  a  whole  country  is  fertilized. 

In  the  larger  cities,  there  is  no  apparent  deficiency  of 
religion.  The  number  of  churches  is  as  great  as  in  Eng- 
land ;  the  habits  of  the  people  are  moral  and  decorous ; 
the  domestic  sanctities  are  rarely  violated;  and  vice  pays, 
at  least,  the  homage  to  virtue  of  assuming  its  deportment. 
The  clergy  in  those  cities  are  men  of  respectable  acquire- 
ments, and,  I  believe,  not  inferior  to  those  of  other  coun- 
tries in  zeal  and  piety.  If  the  amount  of  encouragement 
afforded  to  Sunday  Schools,  Missionary  and  Bible  Soci- 
eties, be  assumed  as  the  test  of  religious  zeal,  no  defi- 
ciency will  be  discovered  in  the  Northern  States.  These 
establishments  flourish  as  luxuriantly  as  in  England, — 
when  the  differences  of  wealth  and  population  are  taken 
into  account.  Among  the  higher  classes,  I  could  detect 
no  appearance  of  religious  jealousies  or  antipathies. — 
Those  who,  in  the  pursuits  of  politics  or  money,  are  ve- 
hement and  intolerant  of  opposition,  exhibit  in  matters 
of  religion  a  spirit  more  tranquil  and  philosophical. 

In  the  country,  however,  this  is  not  the  case.  There, 
differences  of  religious  opinion  rend  society  into  shreds 
and  patches,  varying  in  every  thing  of  colour,  form,  and 
texture.  In  a  village,  the  population  of  which  is  barely 
sufficient  to  fill  one  church,  and  support  one  clergyman, 
the  inhabitants  are  either  forced  to  want  religious  minis- 
tration altogether,  or  the  followers  of  different  sects  must 
agree  on  some  compromise,  by  which  each  yields  up 
some  portion  of  his  creed  to  satisfy  the  objections  of  his 
neighbour.  This  breeds  argument,  dispute,  and  bitter- 
ness of  feeling.  The  Socinian  will  not  object  to  an 
Arian  clergyman,  but  declines  having  any  thing  to  do 
with  a  supporter  of  the  Trinity.  The  Calvinist  will  con- 
sent to  tolerate  the  doctrine  of  free  agency,  if  combined 


408         EDUCATION  OF  THE  CLERGY. 

with  that  of  absolute  and  irrespective  decrees.  The  Bap- 
tist may  give  up  the  assertion  of  some  favourite  dogmas, 
but  clings  to  adult  baptism  as  a  sine  qua  non.  And  thus 
with  other  sects.  But  who  is  to  inculcate  such  a  jumble 
of  discrepant  and  irreconcilable  doctrine?  No  one  can 
shape  his  doctrine  according  to  the  anomalous  and  piebald 
creed  prescribed  by  such  a  congregation,  and  the  practi- 
cal result  is  that  some  one  sect  becomes  victorious  for 
a  time;  jealousies  deepen  into  antipathies,  and  what  is 
called  an  opposition  church  probably  springs  up  in  the 
village.  Still  harmony  is  not  restored.  The  rival  clergy- 
men attack  each  other  from  the  pulpit;  newspapers  are 
enlisted  on  either  side;  and  religious  warfare  is  waged 
with  the  bitterness,  if  not  the  learning  which  has  dis- 
tinguished the  controversies  of  abler  polemics. 

In  the  New  England,  and  many  of  the  Western  States, 
compliance  with  religious  observances  is  classed  among 
the  moral  proprieties  demanded  by  public  opinion.  In 
the  former,  indeed,  religion  has  been  for  ages  here- 
ditary, and,  like  an  entailed  estate,  has  descended,  in  un- 
broken succession,  from  the  Pilgrim  fathers  to  the  pre- 
sent generation.  But  no  where  does  it  appear  in  a  garb 
less  attractive,  and  no  where  are  its  warm  charities  and 
milder  graces  less  apparent  to  a  stranger. 

In  the  larger  cities,  I  have  already  stated  that  the  cler- 
gy are,  in  general,  men  competent,  from  talent  and  edu- 
cation, to  impart  religious  instruction  to  their  fellow-ci- 
tizens. But  in  the  country  it  is  different.  The  clergy- 
men with  whom  I  had  an  opportunity  of  conversing 
during  my  different  journeys,  were  unlettered,  and  ig- 
norant of  theology,  in  a  degree  often  scarcely  credible. 
Some  of  them  seemed  to  have  changed  their  tenets  as 
they  do  their  coats.  One  told  me  that  he  had  com- 
menced his  clerical  life  as  a  Calvinist;  he  then  became  a 
Baptist;  then  a  Universalist;  and  was,  when  I  met  him, 
a  Unitarian ! 

There  is  one  advantage  of  an  established  church, 
which  only  those,  perhaps,  who  have  visited  the  United 
States  can  duly  appreciate.  In  England,  a  large  body 
of  highly  educated  gentlemen  annually  issue  from  the 
Universities  to  discharge  the  duties  of  the  clerical  office 
throughout  the  kingdom.  By  this  means,  a  certain  sta- 


GENERAL  IMPRESSION  OF  THE  AMERICANS.      409 

bility  is  given  to  religious  opinion;  and  even  those  who 
dissent  from  the  church,  are  led  to  judge  of  their  pastors 
by  a  higher  standard,  and  to  demand  a  greater  amount 
of  qualification  than  is  ever  thought'  of  in  a  country  like 
the  United  States.  This  result  is  undoubtedly  of  the 
highest  benefit  to  the  community.  The  light  of  the  es- 
tablished church  penetrates  to  the  chapel  of  the  dissenter, 
and  there  is  a  moral  check  on  religious  extravagance,  the 
operation  of  which  is  not  the  less  efficacious,  because  it  is 
silent  and  unperceived  by  those  on  whom  its  influence 
is  exerted. 

Religion  is  not  one  of  those  articles-,  the  supply  of 
which  may  be  left  to  be  regulated  by  the  demand.  The 
necessity  for  it  is  precisely  greatest  when  the  demand  is 
least;  and  a  government  neglects  its  first  and  highest 
duty,  which  fails  to  provide  for  the  spiritual  as  well  as 
temporal  wants  of  its  subjects.  But  on  the  question  of 
religious  establishments,  I  cannot  enter.  I  only  wish  to 
record  my  conviction,  that  those, who  adduce  the  state 
of  religion  in  the  United  States  as  affording  illustration 
of  the  inutility  of  an  established  church,  are  either  bad 
reasoners  or  ignorant  men. 

I  have  now  done.  I  fear  it  will  be  collected  from 
these  volumes,  that  my  impressions  of  the  moral  and 
political  condition  of  the  Americans  are  on  the  whole 
unfavourable.  I  regret  this,  but  cannot  help  it.  If  opi- 
nion depended  on  will,  mine  would  be  different.  I  re- 
turned to  England  with  a  strong  feeling  of  gratitude  for 
the  hospitality  I  experienced  in  all  parts  of  the  Union; 
and  I  can  truly  declare,  that  no  pride  or  pertinacity  of 
judgment  will  prevent  my  cherishing  the  sincere  wish, 
that  all  the  evils  which  appear  to  me  to  impend  over  the 
future  destinies  of  this  rising  country  may  be  averted, 
and  that  the  United  States  may  afford  a  great  and  lasting, 
example  of  freedom  and  prosperity. 

Let  enlightened  Americans  who  visit  England  write 
of  her  institutions  in  the  same  spirit  of  freedom  which  I 
have  used  in  discussing  the  advantages  of  theirs.  It  is 
for  the  benefit  of  both  nations  that  their  errors  and  incon*- 
sistencies  should  be  rigorously  and  unsparingly  detected. 
A  blunder  exposed  ceases  to  be  injurious,  arid  instead  of 
a  dangerous  precedent,  becomes  a  useful  beacon.  When 

52 


410  CONCLUSION. 

a  writer  has  to  deal  with  fallacies  affecting  the  welfare  of 
a  community,  he  should  express  himself  boldly.  There 
should  be  no  mincing  of  word  or  argument — no  equivo- 
cation of  dissent — no  dalliance  with  falsehood — no  vail- 
ing the  dignity  of  a  good  cause.  Truth  should  never 
strike  her  topsails  in  compliment  to  ignorance  or  sophis> 
try,  and  if  the  battle  be  fought  yard-arm  to  yard-arm, 
however  her  cause  may  occasionally  suffer  from  the 
weakness  of  its  champions,  it  is  sure  to  prove  ultimately 
victorious. 

On  the  20th  of  July,  I  sailed  in  the  Birminghan  for 
Liverpool;  and,  on  the  12th  of  August,  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  again  planting  my  foot  on  the  soil  of  Old  Eng- 
land. 


FINIS. 


NEW  BOOKS 


PUBLISHED  BY 


CAREY,  LEA  &  BLANCHARD. 


PENCIL  SKETCHES;  or  Outlines  of  Characters 
and  Manners,  by  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Look  here  upon  this  picture  and  on  this."— SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Miss  Leslie  hits  skilfully  and  hard,  the  follies,  foibles,  and  exceptionable 
manners  of  our  meridian.  She  is  perhaps  too  severe;  she  draws  too  broadly; 
but  she  is  always  more  or  less  entertaining,  and  conveys  salutary  lessons 
even  in  her  strongest  caricatures.  Her  subjects,  incidents,  and  persons  are 
happily  chosen  for  her  purpose."— Wat.  Gazette. 

"The  happy  faculty  she  has  of  catching  a  thousand  little  peculiarities  of 
manner,  and  hitting  off  the  broader  features  of  character,  certainly  entitles 
Miss  Leslie  to  very  great  praise.  As  a  new  writer  she  holds  forth  liberal 
promise  for  her  future  efforts."— JV.  Y.  American. 

ROSINE  LAVAL,  a  novel,  by  Mr.  Smith. 

"  This  is  the  production  of  an  American,  who,  we  think,  is  destined  to  add 
largely  to  our  reputation,  in  the  line  which  he  has  selected  for  his  future  ef- 
forts—that of  a  novelist.  The  work  before  us  is  well  written,  and  particu- 
larly happy  in  its  dialogue.  The  delineation  of  character  is-  excellent,  and 
there  are  occasional  flashes  of  wit  which  will  pass  as  such  with  critics  far 
more  severe  than  we  are  disposed  to  be.  As  a  first  attempt — for  such  we 
know  it  to  be— it  is  a  production  of  no  ordinary  merit,  and  will,  we  think, 
meet  with  a  reception  calculated  to  inspirit  the  author  to  farther  and  still 
more  successful  efforts.  We  take  pleasure  in  recommending  Rosine  Laval 
to  our  readers  as  being  far,  very  far,  superior  to  nineteen-twentieths  of  the 
novels  which  are  daily  issuing  from  the  press."— JV.  Y.  Courier  <$•  Inquirer. 

THE  SUMMER  FETE,  A  Poem,  with  songs,  by 
Thomas  Moore,  Esq.,  author  of  Irish  Melodies,  &c.  &c. 

THE  WONDROUS  TALE  OF  ALROY,  by  D'ls- 

raeli,  author  of  Vivian  Grey,  &c.  &c.  2  vols.  12mo. 

"  Wild  and  mysteriqus  and  powerful  as  is  the  narrative  of  this  tale,  it  be- 
guiles the  reader  to  make  but  one  journey  in  travelling  through  it,  and 
when  he  finds  himself  at  the  end,  he  looks  back  with  wonder  upon  what  he 
has  gone  through,  and  pants  for  breath."— Lady's  Mag. 

THE  BUCCANEER,  in  2  vols.  12mo.  by  Mrs.  S. 
C.  Hall,  author  of  "  Sketches  of  Irish  Character,"  &c. 

"  An  admirable  historical  romance,  full  of  interest,  and  with  many  new 
views  of  character.  The  plot  is  extremely  well  conceived,  very  artful  and 
progressing,  the  story  never  flags,  and  you  open  at  once  upon  the  main  inte- 
rest."—Jftw  Monthly  Magazine. 


LITERATURE  FRANCAISE. 

BIBLIOTHEQUE  CHOISIE  DE  LITERATURE 
FRANCAISE.  Select  Library  of  Modern  French 
Literature,  published  semi-monthly,  each  number  to 
contain  60  pages.  Price  6  dollars  per  annum,  or  5,  if 
paid  in  advance. 

The  editor  is  fully  aware  of  the  necessity  of  caution 
in  the  selection  of  books  for  republication,  and^it  will  be 
his  study  to  avoid  all  those  that  a  father  might  hesitate  to 
place  in  the  hands  of  his  daughters.  All  new  books  of 
importance,  in  the  various  departments  of  polite  literature, 
will  be  received  immediately  after  publication  in  Paris, 
and  every  exertion  will  be  made  so  to  diversify  the  con- 
tents of  this  work,  as  to  give  a  satisfactory  idea  of  the 
French  literature  of  the  present  day. 

DELORAINE,  A  novel,  in  2  vols.,  by  Mr.  Godwin, 
author  of  Caleb  Williams,  &c.  &c. 

"  We  always  regarded  the  novels  of  Godwin,  as  grand  productions.  No  one 
ever  more  forcibly  portrayed  the  workings  of  mind,  whether  it  were  in  its 
joyous  hilarity  of  happiness,  or  in  the  sublime  agonies  of  despair.  His  tales, 
if  we  may  so  express  it,  have  each  but  one  character,  and  one  end  ;  but  that 
character,  how  aii-absuibing  in  interest,  and  how  vividly  depicted ;  and  that 
end  how  consistent  with  its  preliminaries,  how  satisfactory,  and  how  beauti- 
ful."— Metropolitan. 

"  A' creation  of  an  imagination  to  the  last  degree  wonderful,  grand  and 
striking  as  an' outline  of  which -in  his  best  days,  he  need  not  have  been 
ashamed.  The  female  character  is,  in  many  respects,  beautifully  developed." 
JVfcie  Monthly  Magazine. 

EBEN  ERSKINE,  OR  THE  TRAVELLER,  a 
novel,  by  John  Gait,  author  of  the  Entail,  Annals  of  the 
Parish,  Life  of  Byron,  &c. 

"  A  clever  and  intelligent  author.  There  is  a  quaint  humour  and  observance 
of  character  in  his  novels  that  interests  me  very  much,  and  when  he  chooses 
to  be  pathetic,  he  fools  one  to  his  bent,  for  I  assure  you  the  Entail  beguiled 
me  of  some  portion  of  watery  humours,  yclept  tears,  albeit  unused  to  the  melt- 
ing mood.  He  has  a  sly  caustic  humour  that  is  very  amusing." — Lord  Byron 
to  Lady  Blessington. 

"  One  of  the  remarkable  characteristics  of  Gait,  is  to  be  found  in  the  rare 
power  he  possesses  of  giving  such  an  appearance  of  actual  truth  to  his  narra- 
tive, as  induces  the  reader  to  doubt  whether  that  which  he  is  perusing,  under 
the  name  of  a  novel,  be  not  rather  a  statement  of  amusing  facts,  than  an 
invented  story." 

LEGENDS  OF   THE   LIBRARY  AT  LILIES, 

by  the  Lord  and  Lady  there,  in  2  vols.  I2mo. 

"  Two  delightful  volumes,  various,  graceful,  with  the  pathos  exquisiti  vely 
relieved  by  gaiety ;  and  the  romantic  legend  well  contrasted  by  the  lively 
sketch  from  actual  existence."— Literary  Gazette. 


SCOTT,  COOPER,  AND  WASHINGTON  IRVING 


BY  SIR  WAIiTER  SCOTT. 


IOUNT  ROBERT  OF  PARIS,  a  Tale  of 
the  Lower  Empire.  By  the  Author  of  Wa- 
verley.  In  3  vols. 

"The  reader  will  at  once  perceive  that  the  subject, 
he  characters  and  the  scenes  of  action,  could  not  have 
Jeen  better  selected  tfor  the  display  of  the  various  and  un- 
qualled  powers  of  the  author.   All  that  is  glorious  in  arts 
and  splendid  in  arms — the  glitter  of  armor,  the  pomp  of 
•var,  and  the  splendor  of  chivalry — the  gorgeous  scenery 
f  the  Bosphorus — the  ruins  of  Byzantium — the  magnifi- 
euri1  of  the  Grecian  capital,  and  the  richness  and  volup 
uousness  of  the  imperial  court,  will  rise  before  the  reader 
n  a  succession  of  beautiful  and  dazzling  images." — Com- 
mercial Advertiser. 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  SIR  WALTER 
SCOTT.  With  a  Portrait. 

"  This  is  a  delightful  volume,  which  cannot  fail  to  sat- 
sfy  every  reader,  and  of  which  the  contents  ought  to  be 
tnown  to  all  those  who  would  be  deemed  conversant  with 
he  literature  of  our  era." — National  Gazette. 

HISTORY  OF  SCOTLAND.    In  2  vols. 

"  The  History  of  Scotland,  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  we  do 
lot  hesitate  to  declare,  will  be,  if  possible,  more  exten- 
ively  read,  than  the  most  popular  work  of  fiction,  by  the 
ame  prolific  author,  and  for  this  obvious  reason :  it  com- 
'lies  much  of  the  brilliant  coloring  of  the  Ivanhoe  pic- 
ures  of  by-gone  manners,  and  all  the  graceful  facility  of 
tyle  and  picturesqueness  of  description  of  his  other 
harming  romances,  with  a  minute  fidelity  to  the  facts 
if  history,  and  a  searching  scrutiny  into  their  authenti- 
ity  and  relative  value,  which  might  put  to  the  blush 
Mr.  HiunR  and  other  professed  historians.  Such  is  the 
magic  charm  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  pen,  it  has  only  to 
ouch  th«  simplest  incident  of  every-day  life,  and  it  starts 
up  invested  with  all  the  interest  of  n  scene  of  romance  ; 
and  yet  such  is  his  fidelity  to  the  text  of  nature,  that  the 
knijrhts,  and  serfs,  and  collared  fools  with  whom  his  in- 
entive  genius  has  peopled  so  many  volumes,  are  regarded 
>y  us  as  not  mere  creations  of  fancy,  but  as  real  flesh  and 
)lood  existences,  with  all  the  virtues,  feelings  and  errors 
of  common-place  humanity." — Lit.  Gazette. 

TALES  OF  A  GRANDFATHER,  being  a 
series  from  French  History.  By  the  Author 
of  WAVERLEY. 


BY  MR.  COOPER. 


THE  BRAVO.  By  the  Author  of  the  SPY, 
PILOT,  &c.  In  2  vols. 

THE  WATER-WITCH,  OR  THE  SKIMMER 
OF  THE  SEAS.  In  2  vols. 

"  We  have  no  hesitation  in  classing  this  among  the 
most  powerful  of  the  romances  of  our  countryman." — 
U.  States  Gazette. 

THE  HEIDENMAUER;  or,  THE  BENEDIC- 
TINES. 2  vols. 

New  Editions  of  the  following  Works  by  the 
same  Author. 

NOTIONS  OF  THE  AMERICANS,  by  a 
Travelling  Bachelor,  2  vols.  12mo. 

THE  WEPT  OF  WISH-TON-WISH,  2  vols. 
12mo. 

THE  RED  ROVER,  2  vols.  12mo. 

THE  SPY,  2  vols.  12mo. 

THE  PIONEERS,  2  vols.  12mo. 

THE  PILOT,  a  Tale  of  the  Sea,  2  ?ols.  12mo. 


LIONEL  LINCOLN,  OR  THE  LEAGUER  OF 

BOSTON,  2  vols. 
THE  LAST  OF  THE  MOHICANS,  2  vols. 

12mo. 

THE  PRAIRIE,  2  vols.  12mo. 


BY  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


VOYAGES    AND    ADVENTURES   OF  THK 
COMPANIONS    OF    COLUMBUS.      By 
WASHINGTON  IRVING,   Author  of  the  Life 
of  Columbus,  &c.  1  vol.  8vo. 
"  Of  the  main  work  we  may  repeat  that  it  possesses 
the  value  of  important  history  and  the  magnetism  of  ro- 
mantic adventure.    It  sustains  in  every  respect  the  repu- 
tation of  Irving."  "  We  may  hope  that  the  gifted  author 
will  treat  in  like  manner  the  enterprises  and  exploits  o'.' 
Pizarro  and  Cortes ;  and  thus  complete  a  scries  of  elegar/t 
recitals,  which  will  contribute  to  the  especial  gratifica- 
tion of  Americans,  and  form  an  imperishable  fund  of 
delightful  instruction  for  all  ages  and  countries." — Jfat. 
Gazette. 

"  As  he  leads  us  from  one  savage  tribe  to  another,  as 
he  paints  successive  scenes  of  heroism,  perseverance  and 
self-denial,  as  he  wanders  among  the  magnificent  scenes 
of  nature,  as  he  relates  with  scrupulous  fidelity  the 
errors,  and  the  crimes,  even  of  those  whose  lives  are  for 
the  most  part  marked  with  traits  to  command  admira- 
tion, and  perhaps  esteem — everywhere  we  find  him  the 
same  undeviating,  but  beautiful  moralist,  gathering  from 
every  incident  some  lesson  to  present  in  striking  lan- 
guage to  the  reason  and  the  heart."— Am.  Quarterly  Re- 
view. 

"  This  is  a  delightful  volume;  for  the  preface  truly  says 
that  the  expeditions  narrated  and  springing  out  of  the 
voyages  of  Columbus  may  be  compared  with  attempts  of 
adventurous  knights-errant  to  achieve  the  enterprise  left 
unfinished  by  some  illustrious  predecessors.  Washington 
Irving's  name  is  a  pledge  how  well  their  stories  will  be 
told:  and  we  only  regret  that  we  must  of  necessity  defer 
our  extracts  for  a  week." — London  Lit.  Gazette. 

A  CHRONICLE  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF 
GRENADA.  By  WASHINGTON  IRVING, 
Esq.  In  2  vols. 

"On  the  whole,  this  work  will  sustain  the  high  fame 
of  Washington  Irving.  It  fills  a  blank  in  the  historical 
library  which  ought  not  to  have  remained  so  long  a 
blank.  The  language  throughout  is  at  once  chaste  and 
animated  ;  and  the  narrative  may  be  said,  like  Spenser's 
Fairy  Queen,  to  present  one  long  gallery  of  splendid  pic- 
tures."— Land.  Lit.  Gazette. 

"Collecting  his  materials  from  various  historians,  and 
adopting  in  some  degree  the  tone  and  manner  of  a  monk- 
ish chroniclcr,.he  has  embodied  them  in  a  narrative  which 
in  manner  reminds  us  of  the  rich  and  storied  pages  of 
Froissart.  He  dwells  on  the  feats  of  chivalry  performed 
by  the  Christian  Knights,  with  all  the  ardor  which  might 
be  expected  from  a  priest,  who  mixed,  according  to  the 
usage  of  the  times,  not  only  in  the  palaces  of  courtly 
nobles,  and  their  gay  festivals,  as  an  honored  and  wel- 
come guest,  but  who  was  their  companion  in  the  camp, 
and  their  spiritual  and  indeed  bodily  comforter  and  as- 
sistant in  (In;  field  of  battle.— Am.  Quarterly  Review. 

New  Editions  of  the  following  Works  by  the 
same  Author. 

T.HE  SKETCH  BOOK,  2  vols.  12mo. 

KNICKERBOCKER'S  HISTORY  OF  NEW 
YORK,  revised  and  corrected.  2  vols. 

BRACEBRIDGE  HALL,  OR  THE  HUMOR- 
ISTS, 2  vols.  12mo. 

TALES  OF  A  TRAVELLER,  2  vols.  12mo. 


CLASSICAL  LITERATURE. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  THE 
GREEK  CLASSIC  POETS,  for  the  use  of 
Young  Persons  at  School  or  College. 

Contents. — General  Introduction;  Ho- 
meric Questions ;  Life  of  Homer ;  Iliad 
Odyssey;  Margites;  'Batrachomyomachia 
Hymns ;  Hesiod.  By  Henry  Nelson  Cole- 
ridge. 

"  VTe  have  been  highly  pleased  with  this  little  volume 
This  work  supplies  a  want  which  we  have  often  painfully 
felt,  and  affords  a  manual  which  we  should  gladly  see 
placed  in  the  hands  of  every  embryo  under-graduate 
We  look  forward  to  the  next  portion  of  this  work  with 
very  eager  and  impatient  expectation."— Britis/i  Critic. 

"  Mr.  Coleridge's  work  not  only  deserves  the  praise  of 
clear,  eloquent  and  scholar-like  exposition  of  the  prelimi- 
nary matter,  which  is  necessary  in  order  to  understand 
and  enter  into  the  character  of  the  great  Poet  of  anti- 
quity; but  it  has  likewise  the  more  rare  merit  of  being 
admirably  adapted  for  its  acknowledged  purpose.  It  is 
written  in  thai  fresh  and  ardent  spirit,  which  to  the  con- 
genial mind  of  youth,  will  convey  instruction  in  the 
nost  effective  manner,  by  awakening  the  desire  of  it; 
and  by  enlisting  the  lively  and  buoyant  feelings  in  the 
cause  of  useful  and  improving  study;  while,  by  its  preg- 
nant brevity,  it  is  more  likely  to  stimulate  than  to  super- 
ede  more  profound  and  extensive  research.  If  then,  as  it 
s  avowedly  intended  for  the  use  of  the  younger  readers 
of  Homer,  and,  as  it  is  impossible  not  In  discover,  with  a 
nore  particular  view  to  the  great  school  to  which  the  au 
hor  owes  his  education,  we  shall  be  much  mistaken  if  it 
iocs  not  become  as  popular  as  it  will  be  useful  in  that 
:elebrated  establishment."— Quarterly  Review. 

"  We  sincerely  hope  that  Mr.  Coleridge  will  favor  us 
vith  a  continuation  of  his  work,  which  he  promises." — 

Gent.  Mag: 

''The  author  of  this  elegant  volume  has  collected  a  vast 
nass  of  valuable  information.  To  the  higher  classes  of 
he  public  schools,  and  young  men  of  universities,  this 
•olumo  will  be  especially  valuable;  as  it  will  afford  an 

agreeable  relief  of  light  reading  to  more  grave  studies,  at 
nee  instructive  and  entertaining." — Wesley  an  Methodist 

Magazine. 

VTLAS  OF  ANCIENT  GEOGRAPHY,  con- 
sisting of  21  Colored  Maps,  with  a  complete 
Accentuated  Index.  By  SAMUEL  BUTLER, 
D.  D.,  F.  R.  S.  &c.  Archdeacon  of  Derby. 

By  the  same  Author. 

GEOGRAPHIA  CLASSICA:  a  Sketch  of 
Ancient  Geography,  for  the  Use  of  Schools. 
In  8vo. 

Extract  of  a  Letter  from  Professor  Stuart  of 

Andover. 

"  I  have  used  Butlor's  Atlas  Classica  for  12  or  14  years, 
nd  prefer  it  on  the  score  of  convenience  and  correctness 
o  any  atlas  within  the  compass  of  my  knowledge.     It 
s  evidently  a  work  of  much  care  and  taste,  and  most 
<ily  adapted  to  classical  readers  and  indeed  all  others, 
vho  consult  the  history  of  past  ages.  I  have  long  cherish- 
d  a  strong  desire  to  see  the  work  brought  forward  in  this 
,ountry,  and  I  am  exceedingly  gratified  that  you  have 
arried  through  this  undertaking.    The  beautiful  manner 
n  which  the  specimen  is  executed  that  you  have  sent  me 
loes  great  credit  to  engravers  and  publishers.    It  cannot 
)•.'  that  our  schools  and  colleges  will  fail  to  adopt  this 
work,  and  bring  it  into  very  general  circulation.   I  know 
f  none  which  in  all  respects  would  supply  its  place." 
"The  abridged  but  classical  and  excellent  work  of  But- 
er,  on  Ancient  Geosraphy,  which  you  are  printing  as  an 
accompaniment  to  the  maps,  I  consider  one  of  the  most 
ittractive  works  of  the  kind,  especially  for  young  persons 
tudying  the  classics,  that  has  come  under  my  notice.    I 
wish  you  the  most  ample  success  in  these  highly  useful 
publications." 


MECHANICS,  MANUFACTURES,  &c, 


A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE  ON  RAIL 
ROADS,  AND  INTERIOR  COMMUNI 
CATION  IN  GENERAL— containing  a 
account  of  the  performances  of  the  differen 
Locomotive  Engines  at,  and  subsequent  to 
the  Liverpool  Contest;  upwards  of  tw 
hundred  and  sixty  Experiments  with  Table 
of  the  comparative  value  of  Canals  and  Rai 
roads,  and  the  power  of  the  present  Locomo 
live  Engines.  By  NICHOLAS  WOOD,  Collier 
Viewer,  Member  of  the  Institution  of  Civ" 
Engineers,  &c.  8vo.  with  plates. 

"  In  this,  the  able  author  has  brought  up  his  treatise  t 
the  date  of  the  latest  improvements  in  this  national! 
important  plan.  We  consider  the  volume  to  be  one  o 
great  general  interest." — Lit.  Oaz. 

"We  must,  injustice,  refer  the  reader  to  the  wor 
itself,  strongly  assuring  him  that,  whether  he  be  a  man  o 
scrence,  or  one  totally  unacquainted  with  its  technica 
difficulties,  he  will  here  receive  instruction  and  pleasure 
in  a  degree  which  we  have  seldom  seen  united  before." — 
Monthly  Rev. 

REPORTS  ON  LOCOMOTIVE  AND  FIXED 
ENGINES.  By  J.  STEPHENSON  and 
WALKER,  Civil  Engineers.  With  an  Ac 
count  of  the  Liverpool  and  Manchester  Rail 
road,  by  H.  BOOTH.  In  8vo.  with  plates. 

MILLWRIGHT  AND  MILLER'S  GUIDE 
By  OLIVER  EVANS.  New  Edition,  with  ad 
ditions  and  corrections,  by  the  Professor  o: 
Mechanics  in  the  Franklin  Institute  o: 
Pennsylvania,  and  a  description  of  an  im 
proved  Merchant  Flour-Mill,  with  engrav 
ings,  by  C.  &  O.  EVANS,  Engineers. 

THE  NATURE  AND  PROPERTIES  OF  THE 
SUGAR  CANE,  with  Practical  Directions 
for  its  Culture,  and  the  Manufacture  of  its 
various  Products;  detailing  the  improvec 
Methods  of  Extracting,  Boiling,  Refining 
and  Distilling;  also  Descriptions  of  the  Best 
Machinery,  and  useful  Directions  for  the 
general  Management  of  Estates.  By  GEORGE 
RICHARDSON  PORTER. 

'This  volume  contains  a  valuable  mass  of  scientific 
nid  practical  information,  and  is.  indeed,  n  compendium 
of  everything  interesting  relative  to  colonial  agriculture 
and  manufacture." — Intelligencer. 
"We  can  altogether  recommend  this  volume  as  a  most 
aluable  addition  to  the  library  of  Hie  home  West  India 
Merchant,  as  well  as  that  of  the  resident  planter." — Lit 
Ga-.ette. 

"This  work  may  be  considered  one  of  the  most  valua- 
ble books  that  has  yet  issued  from  the  press  connected 
with  colonial  interests;  indeed,  we  know  of  no  sreater 
service  we  could  render  West  India  proprietors,  than  in 
recommending  the  study  of  Mr.  Porter's  volume." — Spec- 
tator. 

"  The  work  before  us  contains  such  valuable,  scientific, 
and  practical  information,  that  we  have  no  doubt  it  will 
find  a  place  in  the  library  of  every  planter  and  person 
connected  with  our  sugar  colonies."— Monthly  Magazine. 

A  TREATISE  ON  MECHANICS.  By  JAMES 
RENWICK,  Esq.  Professor  of  Natural  and 
Experimental  Philosophy,  Columbia  College, 
N.  Y.  In  8vo.  with  numerous  engravings. 


LARDNER  S  CABINET  CYCLOPAEDIA. 


"  OF  THE  MANY  WORKS  WHICH  HAVE  BEEN  LATELY  MB- 
L13HED  IN  IMITATION,  OR  ON  THE  PLAN  ADOPTED  BY  THE 
SOCIETY  FOR  THE  DIFFUSION  OP  USEFUL  KNOWLEDGE,  DR. 
LARDNER'S  CYCLOPEDIA  IS  BY  MUCH  THE  MOST  VALUA- 
BLE, AND  THE  MOST  RECOMMENDED  BY  DISTINGUISHED 
ASSISTANCE,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  LITERARY." 

Edinburgh  Review. 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  By  Sir  James 
Mackintosh.  In  8  Vols.  Ill  Vols.  pub- 
lished. 

"  In  the  first  volume  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh's  His- 
tory of  England,  we  find  enough  to  warrant  the  antici- 
pations of  the  public,  that  a  calm  and  luminous  philoso- 
phy will  diffuse  itself  over  the  long  narrative  of  our  Brit- 
ish History."— Edinburgh  Review. 

"  In  this  volume  Sir  James  Mackintosh  fully  developes 
those  great  powers,  for  the  possession  of  which  the  public 
have  long  given  him  credit.  The  result  is  the  ablest  com- 
mentary that  has  yet  appeared  in  our  language  upon  some 
of  the  most  important  circumstances  of  English  History." 

litlaa. 

"  Worthy  in  the  method,  style,  and  reflections,  of  the 
author's  high  reputation.  We  were  particularly  pleased 
with  his  high  vein  of  philosophical  sentiment,  and  his 
occasional  survey  of  contemporary  annals." — National 
Gazette. 

"  If  talents  of  the  highest  order,  long  experience  in  po- 
litics, and  years  of  application  to  the  study  of  history 
and  the  collection  of  information,  can  command  superi- 
ority in  a  historian,  Sir  James  Mackintosh  may,  without 
reading  this  work,  be  said  to  have  produced  the  best  his- 
tory of  this  country.  A  perusal  of  the  work  will  prove 
that  those  who  anticipated  a  superior  production,  have 
not  reckoned  in  vain  on  the  high  qualifications  of  the 
author." — Courier. 

"  Our  anticipations  of  this  volume  were  certainly  very 
highly  raised,  and  unlike  such  anticipations  in  general, 
they  have  not  been  disappointed.  A  philosophical  spirit, 
a  nervous  style,  and  a  full  knowledge  of  the  subject,  ac- 
quired by  considerable  research  into  the  works  of  pro- 
ceding  chroniclers  and  historians,  eminently  distinguish 
this  popular  abridgment,  and  cannot  fail  to  recommend  it 
to  universal  approbation.  In  continuing  his  work  as  he 
has  begun,  Sir  James  Mackintosh  will  confer  a  great  bene- 
fit on  his  country." — Land.  Lit.  Gazette. 

Of  its  general  merits,  and  its  permanent  value,  it  is 
impossible  to  speak,  without  the  highest  commendation, 
and  after  a  careful  and  attentive  perusal  of  the  two  vol- 
umes which  have  been  published,  we  are  enabled  to  de- 
clare that,  so  far,  Sir  James  Mackintosh  has  performed 
the  duty  t»  which  he  was  assigned,  with  all  the  ability 
that  was  to  be  expected  from  his  great  previous  attain- 
ments, his  laborious  industry  in  investigation,  his  excel- 
lent judgment,  his  superior  talents,  and  his  honorable 
principles  " — Inquirer. 

"  We  shall  probably  extract  the  whols  of  his  view  of 
the  reformation,  merely  to  show  how  that  important  topic 
has  been  handled  by  so  able  and  philosophical  a  writer, 
professing  Protestantism. — National  Guzet/e. 

"  The  talents  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh  are  so  justly  and 
deeply  respected,  that  a  strong  interest  is  necessarily  ex-  [ 
cited  with  regard  to  any  work  which  such  a  distinguished  j 
writer  may  think  fit  to  undertake.  In  the  present  instance, 
as  in  all  others,  our  expectations  are  fully  gratified."— 
Gentleman's  Magazine. 

"  The  second  volume  of  the  History  of  England,  form- 
ing the  sixth  of  Carey  &  Lea's  Cabinet  Cyclopaedia,  has 
been  sent  abroad,  and  entirely  sustains  the  reputation  of 
its  predecessors.  The  various  factions  and  dissensions, 
the  important  trials  and  battles,  which  render  this  period 
so  conspicuous  in  the  page  of  history,  are  all  related  with 
great  clearness  and  masterly  power." — Boiton  Traveller. 


HISTORY  OF  SCOTLAND.    By  Sir  Walter 
Scott.    In  H  Vols. 

"  The  History  of  Scotland,  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  we  do 
not  hesitate  to  declare,  will  be,  if  possible,  more  exten 
sively  read,  than  the  most  popular  work  of  fiction,  by  the 
same  prolific  author,  and  for  this  obvious  reason :  it  com 
bines  much  of  the  brilliant  coloring  of  the  Ivanhoe  pic 
tures  of  by -gone  manners,  and  all  the  graceful  facility  ol 
style  and  picturesqueness  of  description  of  his  othe 
charming  romances,  with  a  minute  fidelity  to  the  fact 
of  history,  and  a  searching  scrutiny  into  their  authenti 
city  and  relative  value,  which  might  put  to  the  blush 
Mr.  Hume  and  other  professed  historians.  Such  is  the 
magic  charm  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  pen,  it  has  only  t< 
touch  the  simplest  incident  of  every-day  life,  and  it  start 
up  invested  with  all  the  interest  of  a  scene  of  romance 
and  yet  such  is  his  fidelity  to  the  text  of  nature,  that  the 
knights,  and  serfs,  and  collared  fools  with  whom  his  in 
ventive  genius  has  peopled  so  many  volumes,  are  regarde< 
by  us  as  not  mere  creations  of  fancy,  but  as  real  flesh  an< 
blood  existences,  with  all  the  virtues,  feelings  and  errors 
of  common-place  humanity." — Lit.  Gazette. 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  BRITISH  STATESMEN; 
containing  the  Lives  of  Sir  Thomas  More, 
Cardinal  Wolsey,  Archbishop  Cranmer, 
and  Lord  Bnrleigh. 

"  A  very  delightful  volume,  and  on  a  subject  likely  to 
increase  in  interest  as  it  proceeds.  *  *  *  We  cordially 
commend  the  work  both  for  it»  design  and  execution."— 
Ltnd.  Lit.  Gazette. 


HISTORY  OF  FRANCE.    By  Eyre  Evans 
Crowe.    In  3  vols. 

HISTORY  OF  FRANCE,  from  the  Restora- 
tion of  the  Bourbons,  to  the  Revolution 
of  1830.  By  T.  B.  Macaulay,  Esq.  M.  P. 
Nearly  ready. 

"  The  style  is  concise  and  clear ;  and  events  are  sum 
med  up  with  much  vigor  and  originality."— Lit.  Gazette. 

"  His  history  of  France  is  worthy  to  figure  with  the 
works  of  his  associates,  the  best  of  their  day,  Scott  and 
Mackintosh."— Monthly  Mag. 

"  For  such  a  task  Mr.  Crowe  is  eminently  qualified 
At  a  glance,  as  it  were,  his  eye  takes  in  the  theatre  o: 
centuries.  His  style  is  neat,  clear,  and  pithy;  and  hii 
power  of  condensation  enables  him  to  say  much,  am 
effectively,  in  a  few  word?,  to  present  a  distinct  am 
perfect  picture  in  a  narrowly  circumscribed  space." — La 
Belle  Assembles. 

"  The  style  is  neat  and  condensed ;  the  thoughts  am 
conclusions  sound  and  just.  The  necessary  conciseness 
of  the  narrative  is  unaccompanied  by  any  baldness  ;  on 
the  contrary,  it  U  spirited  and  engaging." — Bait,  dmeri 
can. 

"To  compress  the  history  of  a  great  nation,  daring  a 
period  of  thirteen  hundred  years,  into  three  volumes,  am 
to  preserve  sufficient  distinctness  as  well  as  interest  in 
the  narrative,  to  enable  and  induce  the  reader  to  possess 
himself  clearly  of  all  the  leading  incidents,  is  a  task  by 
no  means  easily  executed.  It  has,  nevertheless,  been  weir 
accomplished  in  this  instance."— JV.  Y.  American. 

"Written  with  spirit  and  taste." — U.  5.  Gazette. 

"Could  we  but  persuade  our  young  friends  to  give 
these  volumes  a  careful  perusal,  we  should  feel  assurec 
of  their  grateful  acknowledgments  of  profit  and  pleas- 
ure.''—^. Y.  Mirror. 

"  At  onco  concise  and  entertaining." — Saturday  Bui 
lain. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS, 
to  the  Battle  of  "Waterloo.  By  T.  C.  Grat- 
tan. 

"  It  is  but  justice  to  Mr.  Grattan  to  say  that  he  has 
executed  bis  laborious  task  with  much  industry  and  pro- 
portionate effect.  Undisfigured  by  pompous  nothingness, 
and  without  any  of  the  affectation  of  philosophical  pro- 
fundity, his  style  is  simple,  light,  and  fresh — perspicuous, 
smooth,  and  harmonious." — La  Belle  jSsscmblee. 

"Never  did  work  appear  at  a  more  fortunate  period. 
The  volume  before  us  is  a  compressed  but  clear  and  im- 
partial narrative."— Lit.  Gaz. 

"  A  long  residence  in  the  country,  and  a  ready  access  to 
libraries  and  archives,  have  furnished  Mr.  Grattan  with 
materials  which  lie  has  arranged  with  skill,  and  out  of 
which  he  has  produced  a  most  interesting  volume."— 
Gent.  Mag. 


CABINET    LIBRARY. 


No.  1.— NARRATIVE  OF  THE  LATE 
WAR  IN  GERMANY  AND  FRANCE. 
By  the  MARQUESS  OF  LONDONDERRY.  With 
a  Map. 

No.   2.— JOURNAL  OF  A  NATURALIST, 

with  plates. 

No.  3.— AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  SIR  WAL- 
TER SCOTT.  With  a  portrait 

No.  4— MEMOIRS  OF  SIR  WALTER  RA- 
LEGH. By  Mrs.  A.  T.  THOMSON.  With  a 
portrait 

No.  5.— LIFE  OF  BELISARIUS.  By  Lord 
MAHON. 

No.  6.— MILITARY  MEMOIRS  OF  THE 
DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON.  By  Capt. 
MOYLE  SHERER.  With  a  portrait. 

No.  7.— LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  NATU- 
RALIST ON  THE  STUDY  OF  NATURE 
AND  NATURAL  THEOLOGY.  By  J.  L. 
DRUMMOND,  M.  D.  With  numerous  en- 
gravings. 

IN  PREPARATION. 

LIFE  OF  PETRARCH.  By  THOMAS  MOORE. 
LEANINGS  IN  NATURAL  HISTORY, 

being  a  Companion  to  the  Journal  of  a  Nat- 
uralist 

"  The  Cabinet  Library  bids  fair  to  be  a  series  of  great 
•alue,  and  is  recommended  to  public  and  private  libraries, 
o  professional  men,  and  miscellaneous  readers  generally! 
it  is  beautifully  printed,  and  furnished  at  a  price  which 

will  place  it  within  the  reach  of  all  classes  of  society." 

American  Traveller, 

"  The  series  of  instructive,  and,  in  their  original  form 
xpensive  works,  which  these  enterprising  publishers  are 
now  issuing  under  the  title  of  the  "Cabinet  Library," 
s  a  fountain  of  useful,  and  almost  universal  knowledge ; 
the  advantages  of  which,  in  forming  the  opinions,  tastes, 
and  manners  of  that  portion  of  society,  to  which  this 
varied  information  is  yet  new,  cannot  be  too  highly 
estimated." — National  Journal. 

"  Messrs.  Carey  and  Lea  have  commenced  a  series  of 
Nihlications  iiii'ler  the  above  title,  which  an;  to  appear 
nonthly,  ami  which  seem  likely,  from  the  specimen  before 
is,  to  acquire  a  high  degree  of  popularity,  and  to  afford 
a  mass  of  various  information  and  rich  entertainment, 
at  once  eminently  useful  and  strongly  attractive.  The 
mechanical  execution  is  fine,  the  paper  and  typography 
"xcellent." — Jfaiimille  Banner. 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  SIR  W AL- 
TER RALEGH,  with  some  Account  of  the 
Period  in  which  he  lived.  By  MRS.  A.  T. 
THOMSON.  With  a  Portrait. 

"Such  is  the  outline  of  a  life,  which,  in  Mrs.  Thom- 
son's hands,  is  a  mine  of  interest ;  from  the  first  page  to 
tin;  last  the  attention  is  roused  and  sustained,  and  while 
wo  approve;  the  manner,  we  still  more  applaud  the  spirit 
in  which  it  is  executed." — Literary  Gazette. 


JOURNAL  OF  A  NATURALIST.    With 
Plates. 

-Plants,  trees,  and  stones  we  note; 


Birds,  insects,  beasts,  and  rural  things. 

"  We  again  most  strongly  recommend  this  little  unpre- 
tending volume  to  the  attention  of  every  lover  of  nature, 


and  more  particularly  of  our  country  readers.  It  will 
induce  them,  we  are  sure,  to  examine  more  closely  than 
they  have  been  accustomed  to  do,  into  the  objects  of  ani- 
mated nature,  and  such  examination  will  prove  one  of 
the  most  innocent,  and  the  most  satisfactory  sources  of 
gratification  and  amusement.  It  is  a  book  that  ought 
lo  find  its  way  into  every  rural  drawing-room  in  the 
kingdom,  and  one  that  may  safely  be  placed  in  every 
lady's  boudoir,  be  her  rank  and  station  in  life  what  they 
may."' — Quarterly  Review,  No.  LXXVIII. 

We  think  that  there  are  few  readers  who  will  not 
be  delighted  (we  are  certain  all  will  be  instructed)  by  the 
'  Journal  of  a  Naturalist.' " — Monthly  Jievieio. 

"  This  is  a  most  delightful  book  on  the  most  delightful 
of  all  studies.  We  are  acquainted  with  no  previous 
work  which  bears  any  resemblance  to  this,  except 
'  White's  History  of  Srlborne,'  the  most  fascinating  piece 
of  rural  writing  and  sound  English  philosophy  that  ever 
issued  from  the  press." — Athcnaum. 

"The  author  of  the  volume  now  before  us,  has  pro 
duced  one  of  the  most  charming  volumes  we  remember 
to  have  seen  for  a  long  time." — Nete  Monthly  Magazine, 
June,  1829. 

"A  delightful  volume — perhaps  the  most  so — nor  less 
instructive  and  amusing — given  to  Natural  History 
since  White's  Selborne." — Blackwood's  Magazine. 

The  Journal  of  a  Naturalist,  being  the  second  num- 
ber of  Carey  and  Lea's  beautiful  edition  of  the  Cabinet 
Library,  is  the  best  treatise  on  subjects  connected  wilh 
this  train  of  thought,  that  we  have  for  a  long  time  pe 
msed,  and  we  are  not  at  all  surprised  that  it  should  have 
received  so  high  and  flattering  encomiums  from  the  Eng- 
lish press  generally." — Boston  Traveller. 

Furnishing  an  interesting  and  familiar  account  of 
the  various  objects  of  animated  nature,  but  calculated 
to  afford  both  instruction  and  entertainment." — JVu»A- 
ville  Banner. 

One  of  the  most  agreeable  works  of  its  kind  in  the 
language." — Courier  de  la  Louiatane. 

"  It  abounds  with  numerous  and  curious  facts,  pleas- 
ing illustrations  of  the  secret  operations  and  economy  of 
nature,  and  satisfactory  displays  of  the  power,  wisdom 
ajid  goodness,  of  the  great  Creator." — Philad.  Album. 


THE  MARQUESS  OF  LONDONDERRY'S 
NARRATIVE  OF  THE  LATE  "WAR  IN 
GERMANY  AND  FRANCE.  With  a  Map. 

"No  history  of  the  events  to  which  it  relates  can  be 
correct  without  reference  to  its  statements." — Literary 

Gazette. 

"The  events  detailed  in  this  volume  cannot  fail  to 
excite  an  intense  interest."— Dublin  Literary  Gazette. 

"The  only  connected  and  well  authenticated  account 
we  nave  of  the  spirit-stirring  scenes  which  preceded  the 
fall  of  Napoleon.  It  introduces  us  into  the  cabinets  and 
presence  of  the  allied  monarchs.  We  observe  the  secret 
policy  of  each  individual :  we  see  the  course  pursued  by 
the  wily  Bernadotte,  the  temporizing  Metternicn,  and 
the  ambitious  Alexander.  The  work  deserves  a  place  in 
every  historical  library." — Globe. 

"We  hail  with  pleasure  the  appearance  of  the  first 
volume  of  the  Cabinet  Library."  "  The  author  had  sin- 
gular facilities  for  obtaining  the  materials  of  his  work, 
and  he  has  introduced  us  to  the  movements  and  measures 
of  cabinets  which  have  hitherto  been  hidden  from  the 
world." — American  Traveller. 

"It  maybe  regarded  as  the  most  authentic  of  all  the 
publications  which  profess  to  detail  the  events  of  the 
important  campaigns,  terminating  with  that  which  se- 
cured the  capture  of  the  French  metropolis."— JV«(.  Jour- 
nal. 

"  It  is  in  fact  the  only  authentic  account  of  the  memo- 
rable events  to  which  it  refers." — Jfas/tville  Banner. 

"  The  work  deserves  a  place  in  every  library."— Phila- 
delphia Jilbum. 


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